


Like A Plaintive Melody

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee, Singin' in the Rain (1952)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-05-19 03:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5952031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Glee meets Singin' In The Rain<br/>(Based on the 1952 movie)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Premiere Tonight : the Biggest movie of 1927!”

Tina checks that her dress’s folds are not too rumpled by her coat, and that her feather hat is shiny and looking fabulous before turning towards the microphone.

“Live from the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood, this is Tina Cohen-Chang, reporting from  _ the _ event of the season. What a night, ladies and gentlemen, what. A. Night!”

She looks over the different socialites making their arrival on the red carpet.

Not the main event yet.

Okay she can go on.

“Everyone is breathlessly awaiting for the arrival of the two stars of the evening--”, she starts, when a clamor from the crowd cuts her short.

A limo parks in front of the theater, and a dashing young man in a perfectly tailored suit--with sequins on the hem--comes out of the car, followed by an elegant older woman.

“And look who just arrived : none other than famous Zip Boy of the screen Hunter Clarington and his latest conquest, Miss June Holloway!”

The couple walks by her, the young actor smiling and waving at the crowd.

“Hunter has been so unhappy in his relationships, let’s hope that this is the one!” Tina continues, reporting on the event. “And now here comes--”

She pauses, puzzled by the relative silence of the crowd.

She recognizes the newcomer, of course--it’s her job, and Tina Cohen-Chang is the best at what she does.

“Here comes Sebastian Smythe, Blaine Anderson’s best friend. He’s the one who plays those delicious melodies that set the mood for the two lovebirds!” she says, beaming at Sebastian as he approaches nonchalantly, kissing the back of her hand. “Sebastian, what can you tell us about this new movie?”

Sebastian opens his mouth, but before he can say even one word, the crowd starts yelling and Tina nearly sends him flying into the theater’s door.

“Oh, oh, folks, this is it,” she says excitedly, clutching the microphone and missing Sebastian mimicking her behind her back, “it’s the producer of “The Dashing Warbler” herself, Holly Holliday, who has given you folks all of those pictures we love so much, and her wife, former silverscreen star April Rhodes-Holliday and with them--,” Tina gasps as the crowd’s clamor increases, --”yes! It’s those romantic lovers of the screen, Blaine Anderson and Sugar Motta!”

Out of the limousine, Blaine Anderson steps into the spotlight, waving at the fans with a genuine smile and a few comments for those who paid a tribute to one of his particular roles. Sugar Motta follows behind him closely, her smile blindening in the lights that surround the theater. 

They walk across the carpet until they reach Tina, both actors hugging her warmly.

“Blaine, Sugar,” she says, a little breathless, “you both look lovely!”

Sugar bows graciously, sending kisses towards the crowd. Blaine humbly bows his head with the shy smile that has given him his fame. 

The crowd goes wild, and Sebastian exchanges a smile with Blaine over Tina’s head.

“Looking at you two, it’s no wonder that your names are a household all around the world,” Tina comments, eyeing the two actors with a critical, if admirative, gaze. “Bacon and eggs, Motta and Anderson!”

She laughs delicately into the microphone, and Blaine hides the irony in his smile as best as he can while Sugar beams at her.

“Blaine, can you tell me, confidentially,” Tina asks, playfully turning the microphone away, “are these rumors true that wedding bells are soon to ring for you and Sugar?”

Blaine’s eyes widen and Sebastian bites on his lower lip while Sugar hooks her arms with Blaine’s. 

“Well, Sugar and I have no statement to make, Tina,” Blaine replies good-naturedly, subtly dislodging Sugar’s arms from his. “We are just good friends.”

The smile on Tina’s face tells him how much she doesn’t believe him, but professional as ever, she lets it slide.

For now.

That much Blaine knows.

“You two have come a long way together,” Tina presses, one hand stopping Blaine from going inside the theater. “Won’t you tell us how it all happened?”

Blaine gives her a charming smile, and looks sideways at Sugar who returns the smile.

“Sugar and I did make multiple pictures together,” he starts, keeping the topic on a more professional ground, but Tina tuts, tapping her gloved hand on Blaine’s shoulder in a playful reprimand.

“No, no, Blaine--your rise to stardom is such an inspiration, for so many young people, please,” she insists, gesturing at the microphone for Blaine to take over.

Blaine takes a deep breath, and exchanges a look with Sebastian who merely smirks at him, one eyebrow raised, and Blaine knows exactly what the gesture means.

_ Go on, Tiger, tell us the story of how exactly we rose to fame … _

“Well, Tina, I’ve had one motto which I’ve always lived by,” he says, squaring his shoulders. “Dignity, always dignity.”

\---

_ Mr. Anderson and Mr. Smythe would love to say that introducing their younger boys didn’t lead to them goofing off together and always putting on skits, at the most inconvenient time too, but that would be lying, and they’re gentlemen. _

_ And gentlemen do not lie, even when they decide to become … entertainers. _

_ For example, Georges Anderson could do without running into his little Blaine tap dancing in front of “his” bar to the rhythm of the music played by young Sebastian on an harmonica. _

_ Again. _

\---

Blaine chuckles. “Ah, our parents used to make such a fuss over us, precocious as we both were,” he says, eyes up as if lost in reminiscence. “And when I was real good, I was allowed to accompany Mum and Dad to the theater--only the very best: Shakespeare, Molière, Shaw …”

\---

_ “Seb, we’re going to get caught!” _

_ Blaine winces as his voice cracks, but he has more pressing matters to handle right now. _

_ As in, Sebastian trying to get him in trouble and his conscience being on strike, apparently. _

_ Sebastian looks over his shoulder and grins at him. “Come on,” he whispers urgently, “the show is about to start!” _

_ Blaine moves forward, eyes darting up to the cashier counter over their heads, and gulps. _

_ He doesn’t want to miss the Alexanders act, they’re such a good act … _

_ And Russell is so darn handsome … _

_ Sebastian smiles and keeps on leading the way, and it looks like they’re going to make it-- _

_ “Going somewhere, boys?” _

\---

“This, naturally, stimulated my love for performing, and as the years went by, Sebastian and I focused all of our energy on honing our skills.”

\---

_ “B flat, dammit Blainey boy.” _

_ Sebastian hisses just as Blaine arranges his bow on the strings of his violin, matching Sebastian’s as they tap dance across the stage in perfect unison. _

_ This would be a first class act if they were not wearing the costumes their “manager” insisted on. _

_ Fuck Ryerson to the seventh ring of Hell. _

_ Clowns, really? _

_ But Blaine and Sebastian are nothing if ambitious, and if they have to tap dance and play the fiddle while dressed as clowns to make it in the business, then that’s what they’ll do _ .

\---

“At all times, Tina, the motto remained the same,” Blaine says, tipping his head towards Tina and avoiding Sebastian’s knowing smirk. “Dignity, always dignity.”

\---

_ “We finally made it,” Blaine whispers, clutching Sebastian’s shoulder. _

_ Sebastian sighs and wipes at his brow. “Yeah we made it,” he repeats. “We made it to California. Now what?” _

_ Blaine points at the studio’s entrance with a crooked smile. “Now we get our way in.” _

\---

“Offers from the studios came pouring in when we settled in town, and after weighing our options, we decided to favor Monumental Picture.”

\---

“ _ That’s it Sugar, you hate him. You despise him. You resist him,” Arthur Abrams shouts in his megaphone while Sugar pushes away an actor with a trademark evil moustache. “Now, faint. You guys keep the music!” _

_ Sugar puts her hand over his forehead and somehow faints, while Sebastian, Blaine and another musician play a tense melody. _

_ “Quite a dish, isn’t she,” Blaine whispers, his eyes on Sugar. _

_ Sebastian snorts. “You couldn’t afford it.” _

_ “Okay,” Arthur says, turning towards the ‘door’ of the set. “Dave, now you come in!” _

_ A tall man dressed as a cowboy comes in. _

_ “Keep on grinding! Play the music!” Artie shouts. “That’s it! Dave, hit him in the stomach!” _

_ The cowboy delivers a powerful punch in the villain’s stomach, and the actor crashes into the bar. _

_ Artie throws his megaphone to the floor. “No, no, no!” he screams. “You’re supposed to go  _ over _ the bar! Let’s try it again, Nick. Nick? Nick!” _

_ A couple of assistants approach the fallen actor, and quickly pick him up, shaking their heads towards Artie. _

_ “Great! That’s just great!” Artie whines. “We’ve already lost too many stuntmen in this picture, where will I find a new one …” _

_ Blaine and Sebastian exchange a look, and Blaine throws the fiddle in Sebastian’s hands. “Mr. Abrams, I think I could do that bit for you.” _

_ Artie looks at him through his fingers. “You’re a musician.” _

_ Sebastian looks over the piano. “Moot point.” _

_ Artie considers it and shrugs. “What do I have to lose--what’s your name?” _

_ “Blaine Anderson, sir.” _

_ “Let’s see what you got, Anderson.” _

\---

“My part in Artie--in Mr. Abrams’ movies were increasingly urbane, sophisticated and suave.”

\---

_ Stunt to stunt, Blaine quickly proves himself indispensable for Artie’s vision. _

_ “Blaine, you go.” _

_ Going through a burning building on a motorcycle? No problem. _

_ “Blaine, you go.” _

_ Jumping in the “sea” from a cliff? No problem. _

\---

“And of course,” Blaine says, glancing at his partner who is still beaming and waving at the crowd, “all through that first picture, Sugar was an inspiration, welcoming and warm. A true leading lady, really.”

\---

_ “You have to be more careful, Tiger,” Sebastian says with a frown, wrapping a bandage around Blaine’s singed hand. _

_ “Yeah, yeah,” Blaine says, eyes following Sugar as she walks around in her silk robe, filing her nails and making her bob of dark hair bounce around her face. _

_ Sebastian follows his gaze and rolls his eyes. “You should go and get her,” he whispers in Blaine’s ear. “You just played the hero, after all.” _

_ “You think so?” _

_ “Suuuure.” _

_ Blaine smiles at his friend and straightens up before going over to him. _

_ “Gosh, Miss Motta, it’s been wonderful meeting you,” Blaine says charmingly, holding up his hand to Sugar. _

_ Who looks at it like she can’t believe Blaine even has the audacity of showing it to her. _

_ “I’m Blaine Anderson, the stuntman?” Blaine insists, not deterred by the less than warm welcome he’s getting. “It’s been a real pleasure, and an honor, working with you.” _

_ Sugar gives him a small smile full of contempt before turning her back to him. _

_ Blaine looks embarrassed back to Sebastian, who looks this close to come and teach Sugar a lesson or two, when Artie approaches the pair with a bright smile. _

_ “Ah, Blaine,” he says, clapping Blaine on the back. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” _

_ Blaine does his best to put a charming smile back on his face, but his eyes widen when he takes in who is behind Artie. _

_ “Let me introduce you to the producer of the picture, Miss Holly Holiday.” _

_ Blaine takes his hat off his head, and offers his hand to the producer. “It’s--glad to meet you, ma’am.” _

_ Holly takes his hand and shakes it before Blaine can attempt to kiss the back of it. “How do you do, Blaine,” she says jovially. _

_ Sebastian slowly joins them, curious about the whole affair. _

_ “I just saw some of the rushes for the picture,” Holly continues, not letting go of Blaine’s hand, “and when I asked Artie about this team of stuntmen he has, he told me it was all you!” _

_ Blaine can feel his cheeks heating up, and he looks down humbly. “I--I guess it was me all over.” _

_ “Well son, I think you’ve got something,” Holly says, finally letting him go to light up a cigar. “Come over to my office after lunch, we’ll discuss a contract.” _

_ Sebastian and Blaine mouth “contract” together, before Blaine beams at the producer. “A contract! Thank you, Ms. Holliday!” _

_ As the producer leaves with the director, Blaine turns to Sebastian. “Seb! A contract!” _

_ The pair hugs it out, interrupted by Sugar clearing his throat behind him. _

_ When they part, Sugar is batting her eyelashes at Blaine with a predatory, if seductive, smile. _

_ “Doing anything tonight, Miss Motta?” Blaine asks with a crooked smile. _

_ Sugar slowly shakes her head. _

_ “Too bad,” Blaine says with an apologetic smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m busy. Come on Seb.” _

\---

“Sugar and I have had the same wonderful relationship ever since through the twelve pictures we’ve made together,” Blaine says, biting on the words he actually wants to say about his partner on screen. “And in the course of time,” he adds with a more genuine smile, “the public has taken a liking to me and made me a star, though I do my best to keep my head on my shoulders and my feet on solid ground.”

The crowd cheers on cue, and Blaine waves at them.

\---

_ Blaine blinks, fighting to fully awake, but the 5th bottle of champagne may have been the one that tipped him over into a drunken coma. _

_ “Seb?” he calls, wincing at the roughness of his voice and at the sudden onslaught of pain coming from inside his head. _

_ Since when does he have a personal Woody Woodpecker?! _

_ A mumble comes from under the bearskin Blaine bought for his living room, and Sebastian’s face finally peeks from under the bear’s head. “Whaaaa.” _

_ Blaine smiles, in spite of his hangover and the state of his lavish living room. _

_ Empty bottles, broken glasses and jars of lubricant left opened everywhere he looked. _

_ A regular post-party morning in the Anderson mansion, then. _

\---

“And most importantly,” Blaine says, “I continue living up to my motto. Dignity, always dignity.” Tina beams at him and Sebastian quietly claps at his performance. “That’s pretty much it, Tina,” Blaine concludes, looking down demurely once again.

“Thank you, Blaine,” Tina says with a wide smile. “And I’m sure Sugar and you will continue making movie history tonight in your greatest picture to date, “The Dashing Warbler”!”

Blaine, Sebastian and Sugar turn one more time towards the crowd before rushing inside the theater.

\--------

 

Blaine takes a deep breath, keeping his eyes closed as he listens to the spectators.

Most are laughing, some are cooing--overall, they seem to like.

Now he can let it out.

“Blaine, you ready?” Holly calls, smiling at her and gesturing at the curtains that is dropping in front of the screen.

“As ever, my dear Holly,” he replies charmingly, offering his arm to Sugar who arranges her dress before taking it.

The moment they step on the stage from the wings, the applause redoubles in vigor and they both bow and smile until it quiets down a little.

Sugar leans towards the microphone, but Blaine is faster.

God knows he has to.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,” he says, voice strong as he smiles. Sugar makes another attempt but Blaine discreetly puts himself between the device and his partner. “We are pretty darn thrilled at your response to the “Dashing Warbler”.” He chuckles, echoed by the crowd in the theater, and goes on before Sugar can get another idea. “It was fun making it, and I--we hope that you had fun watching it tonight.”

Sugar tries pushing him. “I--,” she manages to say before Blaine graciously elbows her out of the way.

“We work hard making these pictures,” Blaine says, putting a warning hand on the small of Sugar’ back, “believe me, but if we bring any joy into the lives of our spectators, it was worth it.”

Once again, the crowd applauds and cheers and Blaine tries conveying to Sugar that she needs to stop, but his partner doesn’t quite get it.

“I would--,” Sugar manages to get, but before it can get too complicated to cover, Blaine pinches her side.

“We screen actors aren’t much good at speaking in public, I’m afraid,” he says with a humble smile. “So we had better just act our thanks!”

Blaine makes a big gesture of bowing and nudges Sugar to do the same. They both send kisses to the crowd, and as Sugar opens her mouth one more time, Blaine wastes no time and pulls her backstage.

Sebastian is talking with someone from the publicity department, and raises his glass to Blaine and Sugar, but Blaine doesn’t have the time to smile back.

“F’heavens’ sake,” Sugar screeches and Blaine wonders if he could use the curtain ropes to stuff in his ears, “what’s the idea?” Sugar sighs, huffs and puffs, and Sebastian comes closer with a smirk. “Can’t a girl get in a word in edgewise? They’re my public too!”

Both Blaine and Sebastian wince at the way Sugar’s voice climbs to higher and not all too pleasant notes.

Blaine sighs. “Sugar, we’ve been over this,” he says patiently. “The publicity department--Thad, here--decided it would be better if I made all the speeches for the team.”

Thad steps forwards with a placating look. “Sugar, you’re a beautiful woman, and audience thinks you have a voice to match.We have to keep our stars from looking ridiculous at any cost.”

“Ain’t got that much money,” Sebastian chimes in from behind them, and Blaine is torn between laughing along and scolding his friend.

“Why?” Sugar screeches again. “What’s wrong with the way I talk? What’sa big idea? You think me dumb or somethin’?”

The three men exchange a look and look away before they can betray themselves. 

Blaine puts his arm around Sugar’s shoulders. “No, not at all. It’s just that I’ve had so much more experience, and--”

Sugar shrugs him away and turns to Thad. “Next time, write  _ me _ out a speech! I could memoralize it!”

Sebastian snorts. “Sure,” he drawls. “Why don’t you get back out there and recite the Gettysburg Address?”

Sugar turns to him and pushes him away. “What do  _ you  _ know? You--you--you  _ piano player _ !”

Sebastian raises one eyebrow at her in challenge, and Sugar turns to Blaine, putting his hands on his chest. “Blaine, how can you let him talk like that to me, your fiancé!”

“My fian--” Blaine picks up Sugar’s wrists and removes her hands from his chest with a long suffering look. “Sugar, you’ve been reading those fan magazines again! There is  _ nothing  _ between us. There has never been  _ anything _ between us. Just air, and sometimes not enough of it!”

Sugar smiles, half-patronizing, half-charming, and pats his cheek. “Oh, Blainey, you don’t mean that. Come on, darlin’, we’ll be late to Miss Holiday’s party!”

Thad reaches for Sugar’s coat and leans towards Blaine. “You’re taking separate cars--trying to break out the mob.”

“See you there!” Sugar calls over her shoulder, a bounce in her steps as she walks away.

Blaine’s jaw reaches for the floor, and Sebastian doesn’t even try to contain his hilarity.

“What is the  _ matter _ with that girl?” Blaine says incredulously, hand lifted to rack through his hair until he stops himself. “Can’t she take a gentle hint?”

“I don’t think a violent one would help,” Sebastian says, hands in his pocket as he gets closer. “Plus, she said it herself, she’s  _ irrisistible _ !”

Blaine groans, leaning against a wall and looking up to the beams. “What would I give to get rid of her,” he sighs before shaking his head and reaching for his coat. “But what can I do, right? The publicity! The fans!”

Sebastian claps his back. “The price of fame, Blaine,” he says, in his best imitation of Blaine’s father. “You’ve got the glory, and you have to deal with the little … um, heartaches that go with it.”

Stepping in front of Blaine, Sebastian takes his best melodramatic pose, if only to see that crooked smile finally gracing his best friend’s lips. “Now, look at me,” he says, a hand clutching his chest. “I’ve got no glory, no fame, no mansion, no--”

He pauses, and Blaine snorts. “Hold on, what  _ have  _ I got?”

“I don’t know, Seb, what have you got?”

“I gotta get out of here,” Sebastian says decisively, taking long strides to get out of the theater.

Blaine laughs and quickens his own steps to catch up with him. “Now hold on, my friend,” he says, reaching to put his hand on Sebastian’s nape, “you know you could have it all too. All you need is a little drive.”

Sebastian gives him a small smile before turning it into a smirk. “Good thing our ride is here then,” he says, nodding towards the car waiting for them.

Blaine rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless. “Let’s go, you dope.”


	2. Chapter 2

For five minutes or so, the drive is uneventful and Blaine loses himself in his thoughts, about his life, about his dreams, about how lonely it would be if it weren’t for Sebastian, about--

And then the engine just … stops.

“What’s going on with your car?” he asks, and Sebastian shakes his head in disgust.

“I have no idea, this car hasn’t given him a lick of trouble for at least the past …,” he replies, letting the sentence hang over their heads.

“In the past … what?”

“Four or five hours, at the very least,” Sebastian says before wincing in apologies to Blaine and getting under the hood to check on his precious garbage of a car.

Blaine goes to stand by him, see if he can help, but he quickly realizes what a mistake that was.

“Are you--are you Blaine Anderson?”

Blaine turns to see a couple of young fans and smiles.

“Hey, that’s Blaine!”

_ Oh shit _ .

Blaine starts signing a couple of autographs, but the crowd is quickly turning into a mob, reaching for his sleeve, his hair, his--

“Hey!” he exclaims when one hand squeezes his ass, and he tries getting away from them. “Sebastian!”

“Yeah?”

Meanwhile, Sebastian has managed to get under the car to fix whatever is wrong with his car, so his voice comes muted.

“Call me a cab, would you?”

“... You’re a cab?”

Blaine groans, climbing on top of the car to escape the fans. “Thanks for nothing,” he mumbles before spotting his exit.

It’s been awhile since he needed to do stunts, but he has not forgotten.

“See you later, Seb!”

“See y--hey, Blaine, wait!”

But Blaine is already jumping on the roof of another car stopped at the red light, before landing squarely in the passenger’s seat of a passing  [ Buyck ](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/23/54/eb/2354eb15ece5bd1e1801da7f126c74ec.jpg) .

“What the hell!”

Blaine turns to look at the driver, and his breath catches in his throat.

The driver is a man, roughly his age if Blaine is not mistaken, with eyes that match his car and brown hair carefully swept up.

Long story short--and God knows that Blaine could literally write sonnets about the man next to him--the driver is young, gorgeous and at the moment, on the verge of terrified.

“Get out of my car!”

Blaine looks over his shoulder, and he can see the crowd trying to get to him.

“Keep going, they’re after me!”

The man blinks in surprise, and drives away. 

“I’ll--I’ll call a policeman if you don’t get out!”

Blaine tries appeasing him. “Just a couple of blocks and I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.”

This seems to do the trick, and the man returns his focus on the road.

“You won’t--you won’t hurt me, will you?”

“On my honor. Don’t worry, I’m not a criminal,” Blaine replies, hand covering his heart as he smiles charmingly at the young man.

Who seems pretty immune to said charm.

“I don’t care,” the man says coldly. “Just go. Away.”

Blaine has never made a big deal of his ego, but it’s getting bruised with every demand to evacuate the car. “Now come on …,” he starts, and then the man opens wide eyes and gasps.

“You  _ are _ a criminal!” he exclaims, and parts of Blaine’s mind compare his voice to Sugar’s, appreciating the way it rises without becoming shrill. “I’ve seen your face in the papers!”

Blaine can’t help but smirk. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you have,” he says smugly.

The man glares at him before looking away and stopping the car. “Officer!”

Blaine follows his line of sight and spots the policeman standing at the crossroads.

The man gets closer. “What’s going on?”

“This--this man,” Buyck Guy says, pointing at Blaine. “He just jumped in--”

“Oh my,” the policeman says, eyes widening slightly as he recognizes Blaine. “Blaine Anderson.”

“Blaine Anderson,” Buyck Guy repeats, his frown melting away as his eyes widen.

_ Boy, are those eyes like sapphires … _

“Officer Chang,” Blaine greets with a jaunty salute.

“How are you, Mr. Anderson,” the policeman says as he goes to stand on Blaine’s side, beaming at the actor for acknowledging him by name. “Out for a little ride?”

Blaine reaches out to shake his hand. “Just a lift, my car broke down.”

“Everything alright?” the policeman asks to the both of them, and Blaine’s reluctant savior seems to compose himself.

“Yes,” he replies between gritted teeth, hands clutching the wheel.

“I should think so,” Officer Mike Chang says with a laugh, clapping the hood of the car. “Good night, Mr. Anderson!”

“Good night, Mike,” Blaine says good naturedly before turning back to the man behind the wheel. “Well, seems like you lost the mob. Thank you for saving my life,” he adds, as sincerely as he can. “I’ll be out of your hair now.”

The man blushes and taps his fingers on the wheel. “I’m--I’m driving to Beverly Hills. Can I drop you some place?”

Blaine settles in the car, and eyes the man from his perfectly coiffed hair down to his long legs, and he smiles back at him, gesturing at the tears in his jacket. “I suppose I could get out of this … airy suit. Take by Sunset, there is a shortcut for Camden.”

The man nods and starts driving. Blaine keeps his eyes on him.

As jaded as he has become in the past couple of years, he can’t deny that there is something … magnetic, bewitching almost, about Buyck Guy.

Speaking of which--

“I’d very much like to know whose hospitality I’m enjoying,” he says, keeping his crooked smile up.

“Oh!” the man exclaims softly. “Hummel--Kurt Hummel.”

“Enchanted, Mr. Hummel,” Blaine says before leaning back in his seat. “I’m sorry for frightening you earlier, I was just trying to run from my … adoring fans.”

Kurt looks away from the road for a minute, noticing the state of Blaine’s suit and his eyes widen before he returns his attention to the traffic. “So  _ that _ ’s what you were running away from. They--they did that to you?” he asks, and Blaine nods pathetically. “That’s awful!”

Blaine looks at him, and there is something so … innocent, so truthful, so agendaless in that show of compassion that it makes him want … more.

Sliding on the seat closer to Kurt, Blaine makes a show of looking down with a humble smile. “Frankly, I love to know that I represent something so … passion-inducing to them.”

Kurt gives him a sideway glance, and his eyebrow rises to his hairline.

Blaine stretches, and in a move that is part of the romance tradition, puts his arm over Kurt’s headrest. “Can’t blame them for a little … hysteria when the legend they adore comes to life in front of them.”

Kurt eyes his hand, lingering over his shoulder, before looking at him with a frown. “I … suppose.”

Blaine smiles, slowly sliding his hand closer to Kurt’s shoulder when Kurt takes a sudden swerve, dislodging Blaine. 

“I wanted to apologize for thinking you were a criminal before,” Kurt says innocently once Blaine is back in his seat. “See, I  _ knew _ I had seen your face somewhere.”

“But of course,” Blaine replies with a humble smile. “Which--um, which of my pictures have you seen?”

Kurt shrugs, tapping a finger against his lips--the very picture of puzzlement. “I don’t know, I can’t remember. I know I saws one once.”

Blaine is torn between being offended and laughing. “One, once?!”

Kurt takes advantage of a stop sign to turn to him, an innocent smile on his face. “You know, you were dueling, and that actress, Sugar Motta was there …,” his voice trails on. He drives away, and gives Blaine another shrug. “I don’t go to the movies much, you know--when you’ve seen once, you’ve seen them all.”

Now Blaine knows how he feels, and he sits back against his door, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, thank you  _ very much _ .”

A small smile appears on Kurt’s face, and Blaine does his best not to find it unbearably cute. “Oh, no offence,” he says casually, “it’s just … I guess movies are entertaining enough for the masses, but the personalities on screen …” There he pauses for a moment, giving Blaine a sideway, searching look. “No, I can’t say they  _ impress _ me much. They don’t act, really, you know? They just make a lot of “ah”, and oh,” all of it, accompanied by dramatic gestures that Blaine wants to laugh at.

Except that it’s his craft that is brought down by Kurt’s sharp tongue, and Blaine’s ego is too bruised to allow him to enjoy it.

“A lot of dumb show,” Kurt concludes, waving at Blaine. “Well, you know.”

Blaine turns to look at him with a glare. “You mean, like what  _ I  _ do?”

Kurt’s eyebrow reaches even higher, and his innocent smile turns into a smirk. “Well, yes,” he says, without a hint of guilt or remorse. He suddenly steps on the brakes, waving at the street signs. “Here you are, Mr. Anderson--Camden.”

But Blaine is not about to let it go that easily. “Wait a minute here--you mean, I’m not an actor, is that it? Pantomime on a screen is not acting?”

Kurt visibly restrains himself from laughing in his face. “Of course not--acting means great parts, wonderful lines meant to be spoken--Shakespeare, Ibsen, Molière …!”

Blaine doesn’t bother with Kurt’s self control, and openly snorts in derision. “And pray tell, Mister Hummel, what is  _ your  _ lofty mission in life that allows you to sneer at my  _ humble _ profession?”

Kurt blinks at his words, and a blush spreads from the tip of his ears to his cheeks. “Me? Oh, um, I’m … I’m an actor.”

Blaine opens and closes his mouth, a smirk taking over his mouth. “ _ What _ .”

Kurt frowns and glares at him. “On the stage!”

Blaine sits sideways, clapping his hands. “Oh really now, I’d love to see a proper actor, I’d just  _ love  _ to see you act. What are you in right now? I guess listening to  _ wonderful lines _ would only improve my English,” he says thoughtfully, before winking at Kurt. “That is, if they’d let in a meagre movie actor.”

Kurt huffs and looks away, straight ahead. “I’m not in a play right now, but I will be.”

“Ah.”

“I’m going to New York.”

“Of course.”

“Exactly, and I’ll be--”

“Let me guess,” Blaine interrupts him, his ego taking over as he pictures bright lights with his hands. “Kurt Hummel as Hamlet--as King Lear--as Juliet! You’d have to wear a dress for that one, of course, but you have what it takes …”

If looks could kill, Blaine would be six feet under right this instant. “Oh, you can laugh,” Kurt growls (and Blaine is man enough to admit that it stirs something in his guts and lower), “but at least the stage is a dignified, honorable profession!” 

Getting out of his car, Kurt turns around and opens Blaine’s door harshly. Blaine sits with his legs out of the car, amused as Kurt goes on a rant.

“And what have  _ you  _ got to be so conceited about, uh?” he continues, fists on his hips. “You’re nothing but a, a  _ shadow on film _ , not even flesh and blood--”

Blaine cocks his eyebrow at him, and fluidly steps out of the car to get closer to Kurt. “Oh, no?”

Kurt steps back, eyes widening as Blaine moves closer and closer. “S-stop.”

Blaine lowers his voice to the level he knows to turn more than one knee into rubber. “What could I do to you, dear,” he says in a purr, “I’m just a shadow.”

Kurt pushes him away with all of his strength. “You keep away from me,” he says angrily. “Just because you’re a big movie star, have big parties, you expect everybody to just fell at your feet swooning. Don’t you even touch me!”

Blaine manages not to fall on his ass, and takes a dramatic, if very Shakespearian, pose. “Fear not, good man, I will not impose myself on you. I am but a humble jester and you, you are too far above me,” he declaims. “Farewell, John Barrymore,” he continues sadly, following Kurt as he sits back behind the wheel, “I shall tear myself from your side!”

As he exclaims, Blaine slams Kurt’s door and walks away, only to freeze when a pull and a tearing sound come from his jacket.

Completely and utterly ruined then.

And Blaine is not just talking about his jacket.

\---

Kurt is still fuming about that encounter--how dare he? The … the--the  _ boor _ ! But he’ll see. They’ll all see--when he gets to the mansion.

A butler welcomes him with a haughty look on his face. “Yes?”

“I’m one of the members of New Directions?” Kurt tells him, and the butler nods. 

“Ah yes, the floor show,” he comments and Kurt nods, gesturing at his costume hanging in the back of the car. “Around the back, if you please.”

Kurt follows his line of sight and sees the different entrances. “Oh--right.”

Kurt finally joins his partners. “Sorry I’m late,” he calls around the room, already taking his “civilian” clothes off. “I had to make a detour.”

Unique comes to his help, putting his jacket and shirt away to allow him to change in peace. “You still have plenty of time, sugar.”

Kurt smiles at her and goes to change behind the screen. “Guess who I chauffeured around?”

“Who?” Unique and Kitty call back.

“Blaine Anderson himself,” Kurt says with a snort of derision, and for a moment, the two girls stay silent.

Probably starstruck.

“Blaine …”

“Anderson?”

“The very one,” Kurt calls, pulling on the tights pants with a frown. “A downright prick, I swear,” he says. “I just had to cut him down a peg or two.”

Unique and Kitty make noncommittal noises of agreement.

Kurt finally manages to tuck his see-through shirt in the pants without any unfortunate fold or crease. “What is this big shindig all about anyway?”

Kitty lets out a noise between a giggle and a hiccup. “Oh you know, some Hollywood big shots …”

“Gotta make a good impression,” Unique adds, laughter ringing in her voice.

Kurt is puzzled at their apparent merriment, but he suspects they took some liquid courage beforehand.

Stepping out of the screen, Kurt wordlessly asks for their opinions, and they give him enthusiastic thumbs up. In a corner of the room, Kurt can see Mercedes, Tina and Jake rehearsing the choreography while applying some make up, and he sits down in front of a mirror to put some blush on his cheeks. 

The girls can think what they want, Kurt knows that Hollywood is not the way to go for a him. He’s an actor, a dancer, a singer--what would the pictures use him for?

No, New York is the way to go, that’s for sure.

\---

Blaine makes his way to the party in a new suit, still brooding over what Kurt told him.

He’s a movie star, but does it mean anything?

He manages to put a smile on his face as he crosses the room, thanking everybody congratulating him for the new picture, until he reaches Sebastian.

A young, blond man is all over him, twisting one lock of hair in his fingers, and Blaine distracts himself for a moment by observing them from a distance.

“Oh, Mr. Smythe,” the young man purrs, “could you  _ really _ get me into the movies?”

Sebastian has one arm around the Flirt’s waist and he smirks at him. “I should think so …”

The Flirt bats his eyelashes at Sebastian flirtatiously, and his hand slides down Sebastian’s chest. “But what would I have to do?”

Well, that’s forward.

But Sebastian straightens up, his smirk intensifying, and Blaine knows exactly where this is going.

“Well, it’s pretty simple my dear. Meet me Saturday afternoon in front of the Theater. I’ll gladly take you in--unless I’ve already seen what is playing, in that case you’re on your own.”

The young man pulls away from Sebastian with a glare. “Oh, dry up!” he shouts, stalking away.

Blaine walks out of the shadows and claps Sebastian’s shoulder. “Hi Sebastian.”

Sebastian sneaks his arm around Blaine’s waist. “Blaine! How did you come, by way of Australia?”

Blaine hangs his head, partially leaning against Sebastian’s solid frame. “Seb--am I a good actor?”

“As long as I work for Monumental,” Sebastian says airily, “you’re the greatest of them all!”

Blaine disentangles himself from Sebastian’s hold with a frown. “No kidding, Sebastian, you’re my best pal--you can tell me!”

Sebastian tilts his head at him curiously. “What’s gotten into you, Blainey?” he asks, putting his hands on Blaine’s shoulders. “Of course you’re good!”

Blaine lets out a shaky breath. “Well, just keep telling me from time to time, will you? I’m a little bit shaken …”

Sebastian pinches his cheek and affectionately taps it. “A new Blaine Anderson.”

“Ha ha,” Blaine deadpans.

Before he can add anything, or tell Sebastian about the whole encounter, his name is called across the room, and he turns to his producer with the fakest smile on his face.

“Blaine, my boy!” Hollie calls, reaching for him. “Where have you  _ been _ , It’s colossal, everybody is so …”

Blaine chances a look at Sebastian, who mimes drinking, and he returns his attention to the woman. “Glad you’re still satisfied with my service, H..”

“We’ve been waiting for you!” Hollie exclaims, snapping her fingers. “Been holding the show for you!”

“The show?” Blaine repeats, completely lost.

More people come into the room, sitting on couches and every available surface.

“Jacob, lower the screen!” Hollie calls to her butler, and the man nods, putting a movie screen into place. “Listen everybody,” Hollie says loudly, pulling Blaine with her, “I got a little surprise for you.”

“A movie?” Blaine asks. “Didn’t we just watch one?”

Sebastian stands next to him, hands in his pockets. “Have to run a movie at a proper Hollywood party,” he deadpans, and Hollie gives him a crooked smile.

“Listen, this man has been pestering me for months, and I just wanted give it a try--is the gadget working, Jacob.”

“All set, ma’am,” the butler replies before exiting the room.

“Okay,” Hollie says with a coy giggle, “let it go!”

As the lights go out, the screen turns blank for a moment before an office appears--a desk, some bookshelves and a window.

Suddenly, a hissing sound starts, seemingly coming from behind the screen. A man steps in the frame, goes to the desk and ruffles some papers--which coincides with the sound of a thunderstorm, again coming from behind the screen.

“What’s going on?” April whispers next to Hollie, who waves at her to stay quiet.

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen,” a voice full of echoes surprises them all, especially since it matches the movement of the man’s lips on the screen, “this is a demonstration of a talking picture!”

Certain members of the audience either gasp or scoff, but Blaine is intrigued, leaning over the couch to look at the phenomenon.

“Note how my lips and the sound issuing from them are synchronized together in perfect unison.”

“There’s someone talking from behind the screen,” a man shouts.

“Come on, Thad, come out!” a girl says with a nervous laugh.

“I’m right here,” Thad points out with a laugh from his sitting position in the back of the room.

On screen, the man continues. “My voice is recorded on a record, just like this one,” he says, lifting a vinyl from the desk. “It is connected with the mechanism of the projection machine as to run simultaneously with the unreeling of the picture.”

By then, the audience is frozen into silence.

“A talking picture,” the man repeats with a satisfied smile. “Thank you. Goodbye.”

The screen returns to blank, and the lights are back on.

Hollie claps her hands. “Well?”

“It’s a scream!”

“A toy!”

“A gadget!”

June Holloway comes to their group, Hunter on her heels, and she snaps her fan closed. “It’s vulgar,” she proclaims before walking out.

Thad stands up and comes next to Hollie. “Do you think they’ll ever really  _ use _ it?”

Hollie snaps her fingers and a waiter rushes with glasses of champagne for all of them. “I doubt it,” she says thoughtfully, “though I know that the Warners are talking about making a whole picture with this … gadget.”

“Really?” Blaine asks, sipping on his drink.

“Oh yeah,” she replies with a big hand gesture, “The Jazz Singer, they’re calling it.” She takes another big gulp of her champagne, gesturing at the waiter to come back for another round. “They’ll lose their shirts over it, mark my words! What do you think Blaine?”

Blaine takes a moment to mull it over, replaying Kurt’s passionate rant about what makes a good actor--the lines, coming to life …

This gadget could be the gateway between theater and pictures …

“I’m not sure it will ever amount to a thing,” he replies nonetheless, careful not to bruise his boss’s ego.

“That’s what they said about the bicycle though,” Sebastian whispers in his ear before giving him a pointed look over the rim of his glass.

Before Blaine or Hollie can continue that discussion, a hand reaches for Blaine’s cheek on his other side.

“There you are, Blainey-boo,” Sugar simpers. “I was  _ sooo _ worried …”

“Hello Sugar,” Blaine replies wearily, already wondering why he didn’t stay at his place when he had the chance.

Hollie smiles at them like a benevolent godmother. “Ah, together at last, my two stars,” she says, loud enough to catch the room’s attention. “Blaine and Sugar--aren’t they great, folks?”

The room applauds and cheers, and Blaine smiles a little bit more honestly this time around, dislodging Sugar from his neck.

“Now on with your present,” Hollie says with a dangerous kind of smile. A cake is rolled into the room--beautiful, covered in cream and sugary bows. “It’s for you kids--a very special cake, I want you to have the first slices of it.”

Blaine picks up the knife, and poses for the photographer while Sugar mimics surprise.

God he hopes he’s more believable than her in his own poses.

Blaine cuts into the cake, and the top of the cake pops out, making room for a slender figure to emerge with a delighted “Weehee.”

A very familiar figure.

Who quickly loses his smile when blue meets hazel and Kurt recognizes him.

Blaine laughs in surprise, already holding up his hand to help him down.

“Well, if it isn’t John Barrymore!”


	3. Chapter 3

Luckily for Kurt, he has learned from a young age how to compose himself and keep a straight face no matter what Life threw at him, and he doesn’t let Blaine Anderson and his smug smile make him lose his wits.

The rest of the group comes around the cake, as rehearsed, and the show goes on, the harmonies on point and Kurt fits right in the group.

He can’t really help it, can he, that his eyes keep on darting towards Blaine--and he can feel his cheeks flushing when every time he finds the actor, the man is looking at him, a small crooked smile on his face.

If Kurt didn’t already know that the man was insufferable, he would think that’s admiration on his face.

But he knows better.

The sentiment is only exacerbated when Kurt does his best to avoid Blaine Anderson and his sarcastic smile, only to find him at every turn, plucking the chocolate hearts from his fingers time and time again.

Kurt is a professional, though, and he manages to get through the number without letting his palm get too acquainted with Blaine’s cheek.

It’s a small victory, but Kurt holds on to it when Blaine struts towards him once the song is over and his partners all spread around the room to flirt their way up the ladder.

“I hope you’re going to favor us with something truly special tonight,” Blaine says, leaning against the table still holding the cake, passing a plate to Sebastian who stands nearby, eating the large slice away. “Hamlet’s soliloquy, at least, or perhaps Cyrano de Bergerac’s balcony scene?”

Kurt tries to keep his anger--and, yes, slight humiliation at being caught in his delusion of grandeur and success--in check, but Blaine is really stomping on his last nerve, Hollywood star or not. “Mr. Anderson, please …,” he starts, trying to get away.

“Oh don’t be shy,” Blaine says, sounding almost compassionate, but the feeling is somehow diminished by the way he literally leers at Kurt, looking at him from head to toe and back.

God knows that costume is not on the modest side.

“After all,” Blaine continues after a moment of silence that lasted far too long for Kurt’s comfort, “this is the perfect costume for Christian.”

A tap of the foot reminds Kurt that they have a second performance programed, and once again, he can feel Blaine’s eyes on him the whole time.

When he takes the lead of the song.

When the group starts dancing a sort of cancan.

When they go for the finish, backs arched and legs as straight as possible.

All along, Blaine’s dark eyes follow him around the room, and his smile changes--not that Kurt actively searches for him, what even--, from sarcastic to openly admirative.

Kurt tries to leave the room as their audience claps and cheers for them, but Blaine blocks his way out.

“I just wanted to let you know that I … I really enjoyed your performance,” Blaine says, sounding like he actually means it.

“Excuse me,” Kurt manages to say between gritted teeth, trying to duck once again to make an exit.

Blaine lightly reaches for Kurt’s wrist. “Don’t go,” he says softly, looking almost vulnerable.

That is, until that damn twinkle makes a new appearance in his eyes as he looks at the cake. “Now that I know where you live, why don’t you invite me in?”

Kurt feels like his face could melt the cake and all the candles in the house.

He opens his mouth, ready to put Mr. Superstar Anderson back in his place, but he’s rudely pushed aside by someone in a frankly appealing dress.

“And who’s the lad, anyway?” Sugar Motta asks, flailing her gloved hand in the air, close enough to almost slap Kurt in the nose.

Blaine pulls Sugar to his side in a charming move--Kurt would almost believe that Blaine does it to keep her away from him, but frankly, he still has a little bit of red on the edge of his vision, and it doesn’t get better when Blaine opens his stupid mouth. “That, my dear, is someone lofty and far above us all mere comedians of the screen,” he says, declaiming his little speech, “an actor of the legitimate  _ stage _ , can you imagine!”

Sugar looks between them like Blaine has lost his mind--not that Kurt can blame her--, her eyes staying on Kurt with something akin to suspicion in her look.

Blaine is not done yet. “See, Mr. Hummel here couldn’t possibly learn  _ anything _ from the movies.”

That’s it.

That’s the straws that breaks Kurt’s resolve, and he reaches for a plate with a large slice of cake. “Here’s one thing I’ve learned from the movies,” he snarls, hurling the plate at Blaine’s head.

It’s almost as if he can see it happening shot by shot.

The moment the plate leaves his hand.

The moment Blaine’s eyes widen as he sees the projectile coming towards him.

The moment the actor ducks to avoid it.

The moment Sugar leans forward to grab Blaine’s hand--putting herself right in the line of fire, so to speak.

The moment the cake splats on her face.

The moment, in suspension in the air, where both Blaine and Sebastian look curiously at Sugar covered in cake before turning to look at Kurt.

In Sebastian’s case, there is definitely admiration there.

As for Blaine … Kurt isn’t sure.

And frankly, he’s not about to hang around to find out.

“I’m sorry,” he babbles, “I didn’t--I didn’t mean--,” he manages before slowly moving towards the door.

“Oh Sugar,” Blaine says, biting down on a much unwelcome laugh, “I’m sorry, here,” he adds, offering his co-star his handkerchief.

Sugar is gasping and wiping the cake angrily. “I’m going to kill him,” she says shrilly. “Let me at it.”

“Now, come on Sugar,” Blaine says, strategically putting himself between Sugar and Kurt, “it’s obvious I was the target of it.”

Sugar screams in his face, making his ears ring. “I’ll kill him!”

Sebastian approaches with a much bigger towel. “Here, here,” he deadpans. “Frankly, my dear, I wouldn’t wipe the cream just yet--you’ve never looked lovelier.”

“I’ll kill you too!” Sugar screams into the towel, and Sebastian pats it on her face.

Maybe more harshly than absolutely necessary.

“Oh come on Sugar,” Blaine says, taking over and hip checking Sebastian away, “it was just a little accident.”

“Sure,” Sebastian drawls from his spot, back at eating yet another slice of cake, “happens to me at least four times a week.”

Blaine glares at him before returning his attention to Sugar, carefully wiping some frosting from her forehead. “That young man didn’t mean any harm, he--,” he says, looking over his shoulder and tensing when there is nobody in Kurt’s spot. “Where is he?”

Sebastian shrugs, and Blaine lets go of the towel, letting it fall back over Sugar’s face as he takes off too.

“Blaine!” Sugar shouts. “Blaaaine!”

\---

Blaine stops running when he enters what looks like an improvised changing room, where two girls are still chatting, glasses of champagne in hands.

“Excuse me ladies,” he says, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “have you seen Mister Hummel nearby?”

The blonde one gives him a long, calculating look while the black one looks at him over the rim of her glass before the two exchange a look.

“He ran away,” the blonde finally replies.

“Took his stuff and bolted, really,” the other girl says. “Maybe we can help?”

“Thank you,” Blaine replies, giving them a curt bow of the head before running out.

The butler is outside, smoking a cigarette when Blaine runs up to him. “Did you see one of the dancers, right now--”

The man seems startles by Blaine’s apparition but he quickly gets his wits back. “Drove off, sir. He seemed to be in quite a hurry.”

Blaine sighs and thanks him, standing in the driveway as he looks into the distance.

As much as he made fun of Kurt earlier, he really was impressed by his performance.

What a voice, and such grace--there was something almost clumsy sometimes in the way he followed the choreography, but he compensated with his sunny attitude and and his charms.

Pure talent, really. Blaine cannot imagine that Kurt  _ will  _ become a star.

And that fire in his eyes when he confronted Blaine!

It takes a lot of courage, Blaine muses, to respond to someone of Blaine’s stature without losing one’s composure.

Kurt Hummel might be the bravest man Blaine got to know in this city.

And now …

Now he’s gone.

Dammit.

\---

_ Later that night _

Sebastian hears some singing coming from Blaine’s room and frowns.

Blaine is not in his usual frame of mind, that much is sure.

He has been moody, downright blue for most of the evening, and now--

Now he is humming a song by himself.

Sebastian listens, the song sounding vaguely familiar.

Poking his head into Blaine’s room, he sees his best friend in his pajamas, executing a couple of dance moves while he keeps on singing under his breath, humming here and there.

Sebastian’s eyes widen at the sight.

Now he recognizes the music--it was that silly, charming number Hollie got for her guests tonight, the one with the enchanting firecracker coming out the cake.

The very one who smashed some of said cake into Sugar’s stupid face.

Sebastian smiles at the memory before looking back at Blaine’s back.

There is something almost … wistful in Blaine’s attitude, Sebastian wonders--

_ No. _

_ It can’t be. _

Sebastian puts his hand over his face.

Of course Blaine has a crush on someone who played a Cinderella on him--and without even leaving a shoe behind.

That’s going to be fun.

“Bee, you okay in there?”

“ _ \--sweet content dreamin’ _ … Oh, hey, sorry,” Blaine says, clearing his throat and fidgeting with the buttons of his pajamas. “Did I disturb you?”

Sebastian smiles at Blaine with the kind of smile he usually keeps for his conquests. “Your singing would never disturb me, Bee,” he says, approaching Blaine quietly. “Wanna share what’s on your mind?”

Blaine sighs, and Sebastian sits on the bed.

“There is … this man …”

Oh boy.

\---

_ A couple of weeks later _

“Where do you want me to take this?”

Artie looks up from the script in his hand and gestures for his assistant to deal with the props department.

“Studio 21,” Roderick says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “The new Anderson-Motta picture.”

The assistants nod, carrying the different potted plants and fake columns through the different studios.

Blaine tries once again to get the brocade he’s put stuffed in to be less itchy, while Sebastian is being entirely unhelpful, sprawled on the Oriental couch and with his nose buried in the latest edition of “Variety.”

“Stop fidgeting, Mr. Anderson,” the make-up artist tells Blaine sternly, giving him a sugary sweet smile when he does freeze for a moment--just long enough for him to apply a fake beauty mark on the corner of Blaine’s lip. “There, not so difficult was it.”

Blaine grins a fake smile, waiting for him to be gone to go to the couch, lifting Sebastian’s legs to drop himself next to him.

Sebastian doesn’t even blink, putting his legs on Blaine’s lap. 

“Say,” Sebastian says nonchalantly, “have you read this?”

Blaine looks away from the lace around his wrists and frowns. “No, why?”

“The Jazz Singer,” Sebastian reads out loud, “First talking picture novelty--all time smash end of first week.”

Blaine rolls his eyes and huffs. “All time flop at the end of the second one,” he replies, shrugging dismissively before standing up to put on the wig left on the table for him. “Well, new picture, new role. What do you say?” he asks, affecting a cavalier pause.

“What’s this one about?” Sebastian asks, folding the magazine away and straightening up in the Ottoman.

“French Revolution,” Blaine asks. “Count Pierre de Batailles, more commonly known around court as the Dueling Cavalier.”

Sebastian stands up, pouting at Blaine’s costume. “Let me guess,” he says thoughtfully. “You’re the dashing aristocrat; she’s a simple girl of the people, and she won’t even give you the time of day?”

Blaine’s shoulders slump a little as Sebastian unknowingly describes the movie’s exact plot, but he recovers quickly. “Well, it’s a living, ain’t it?”

Sebastian lets out a small laugh, following Blaine to the set and running his fingers along his piano’s keys. “Why even bother shooting this one?” he jokes. “Release the last one under a new title, and voilà.”

Blaine doesn’t reply, and Sebastian gives him a sideway glance.

“After all, you’ve seen one,” he says, perhaps a bit too harshly, “you’ve seem ‘em all.”

Blaine turns his head sharply to glare at him. “What did you just say?” he snarls, and Sebastian holds up his hands to prevent an attack.

“What’s the matter?” he asks and Blaine drops on the bench next to him, leaning back against the keys and producing a truly horrifying sound.

“That’s exactly what Kurt Hummel said to me,” Blaine finally says, voice annoyed and dejected as he pouts.

Sebastian groans. “Two weeks and you’re still thinking about it?”

Blaine straightens up and grabs Sebastian’s shoulder. “I can’t get him out of my mind!”

Sebastian snorts and shrugs Blaine’s hand away from his arm. “How could you,” he replies teasingly. “He’s the first lad who hasn’t fallen at your feet ever since you started courting.”

“It’s not that,” Blaine says, growing annoyed. “He’s on my conscience.”

Sebastian quirks one eyebrow at his friend. “It’s not like it’s your fault he lost his job at the New Directions.”

Blaine stands up, shoulders tense. “I’ve got to find him.”

Sebastian turns around on the bench to follow Blaine. “It’s not like you haven’t tried,” he exclaims before taking an exaggerated cowboy stance. “Short of sendin’ blood hounds and a posse that is.”

Blaine doesn’t even give him the hint of a smile, shrugging. “I suppose,” he replies, looking too sad for Sebastian’s comfort.

Besides, in that outfit, his sad mug is just ridiculous.

Sebastian crosses the distance between them to put his arm around Blaine’s shoulders, squeezing him close. “Now come on, Blainey boy!” he says, cheerful and comforting. “Snap out of it!”

Blaine looks at him, a sad puppy look on his face and Sebastian almost kisses it away.

Almost.

“Trust me, my friend,” he says instead. “I’m the mood musician, ain’t I? I’ll get you in the right, heroic mood!”

Spinning Blaine around, Sebastian returns to the piano and starts playing something energetic.

“Come along, Blaine,” he singsongs. “Let’s be gay!”

In spite of himself, Blaine snorts a laugh. “What about?” he says, a corner of his mouth finally rising.

Sebastian grins at him. “Aren’t the holidays around the corner.”

“We’re in March.”

“Easter then!”

Blaine chuckles, going to stand behind Sebastian to lean against his back. “You’re an idiot.”

“The best of ‘em!”

Sebastian looks at Blaine over his shoulder, and Blaine leans in, pecking Sebastian’s cheek and leaving a trail of white make-up on his cheek. “Of course,” he says with another laugh before going to sit next to Sebastian, the two of them playing some light and entertaining music that gets all the techies in a cheerful mood.

Artie rolls on set a moment later, already directing the light technicians and the props around before getting to them.

“Blaine, you look fantastic,” he says flatly. “Where is Sugar?”

Blaine shrugs and an assistant pops from Sugar’s room. “She’s on her way sir,” she tells Artie, looking a bit frazzled.

Sebastian starts playing a funeral march just as Sugar walks onto the set, and Blaine smothers his giggle into his sleeve.

Truth be told, Sugar looks pretty ravishing in her costume, the 18th century bouffant skirt and tight bodice doing wonders for her figure. She wears a towering wig, and the whole charm of the costume is considerably diminished by the grimace on her face.

Two hairdressers follow her, their hands hovering around the wig to keep it from falling.

“Gee this wig weighs a ton,” Sugar whines as they reach her “bench”. “What dope would wear something like that?”

Artie sighs. “Everybody used to wear them, Sugar,” he explains delicately.

She shrugs, sending the wig into a shiver that has both the hairdressers gasping. “Then everybody was a dope,” she replies before turning sharply towards the piano. “What is it you’re playing?”

Sebastian bats his eyelashes at her. “Something just for you,” he says sweetly, and Sugar beams at him, humming something approaching the melody.

The moment she recognizes it is obvious in the way she scrunches up her nose and sends her fan towards Sebastian. “Oh you wise guy!”

The hairdresser goes to pick up the fan, lightly tapping Sebastian’s nose with a “be nice” before returning to Sugar’s side. “You look just beautiful, Miss Motta,” she gushes, fluffing up Sugar’s skirt.

Artie approaches, taking Sugar’s hand and kissing the back of it lightly before patting it. “You look great,” he says reassuringly. “Now, come on, everybody, places!”

As hard as he might, Blaine doesn’t manage to avoid Sugar--and he really tried.

The moment she passes him by, she clamps her fingers around his arm and pulls him along.

“I looked for you the other night, at the Schuester party,” she simpers, batting her eyelashes at him, but her voice is nothing if grating on Blaine’s already frayed nerves, “Where were you, Blainey?”

The nickname usually makes him more at ease, but Sugar using it only makes Blaine wish she wouldn’t do that.

“I’ve been … busy,” he replies succinctly, hoping she’ll just drop it, for once.

But that would be too much to hope.

Artie shouts as he passes behind them, giving Blaine a pointed look, and he moves them both closer to their appointed spots.

Sugar snaps her fan open and and huffs. “I know what you’ve been busy at,” she says, affecting a pout that really doesn’t suit her. “Busy looking for that boy!”

Blaine straightens up his brocard and decides to go for it. “As a matter of fact yes I have.”

“But whyyy?” Sugar whines, putting her wig in danger of falling over.

Blaine works hard on his poker face. “I’ve just been worried about him.”

Sugar’s pout only increases and she pretends to be on the verge of tears. “You should have been worried about me a little,” she says dejectedly. “I’m the one who got whipped cream right in the kisser!”

Blaine looks down at her and he allows himself to smile gently at her. “You did, but you didn’t lose your job over it. He did.”

Sugar’s pout disappears from her face, making room for a delighted smile, almost childlike in her joy. “You’re darned tootin’ he did--I made sure of it.”

Blaine takes a step back in his shock. “You. Did. You what?”

Sugar looks at him, slowly moving the fan back and forth as she smiles sweetly at him. “Well, they weren’t going to fire him, so I called them, telling them they’d better!”

Blaine tries, so hard, not to let his anger show on his face, especially now that Artie is facing them, one hand raised as if to start the cameras rolling.

Then again, he’s never been particularly good at keeping his anger in check.

“Now remember Blaine,” Artie calls, and he takes a deep breath to look at the director, “you’re madly in love with her, and you need to overcome her shyness. Sebastian, your move!”

Sugar arranges her dress on the bench to make it look prettier, and Sebastian starts playing a romantic piece, a lush interpretation of Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet.

Blaine glares one more time at Sugar’s back, wondering if toppling the wig would be worth it, before taking his position a bit further back.

“Roll ‘em!” Artie calls. “Okay, Blaine, enter. You see her. You want her. Run to her.”

Blaine does as he’s told, exaggerating his expressions and gestures as he pretends to just having noticed Sugar sitting there, looking around with wide turns of his torso before running to Sugar.

To her credit, she does act very surprised to see him there, opening her mouth in a silent “o”, half rising. Blaine puts his hand on her waist, smiling reassuringly. Taking her hand, he gets down on one knee. 

Kissing her hand, Blaine looks up at her and grits his teeth. “Why, you rattlesnake,” he whispers angrily. “You got that poor kid fired!”

Sugar pulls her hand from his hold, lightly tapping the fan on his fingers before looking away coyly. “And if I get my hands on him, that’s not all I’m gonna do,” she says sweetly.

Artie has his eyes on the camera. “You look great, go on!”

Blaine goes on with the script, taking Sugar’s arm in his hands and pressing kisses up to her sleeve. “That’s the most despicable thing I’ve ever heard,” he says. “What did you have to do it for?”

Sugar looks at him, confusion on her face as she hides her mouth with the fan. “‘Cause you liked him,” she replies, as if that makes any sense. “I could tell, I have excellent instincts.”

Blaine does his best to look at her as lovingly as possible, and he can only rely on Sebastian’s music to convey the proper emotions as he pulls her to her feet to take her hands in his. “Believe me, sweetheart,” he says with the fakest smile of his whole career, “I don’t like her half as much as I hate you!”

Sugar tries to pull away, raising a hand to her forehead, but Blaine keeps her close, the epitome of gentleness. “Sticks and stones may break my bones,” she starts, trying to kick him behind the bench.

Blaine pulls her against him, in a big demonstration of passion. “Don’t talk about breaking bones, Sugar, you might give me ideas!” he snarls.

Sugar wraps her arms around his neck, returning the embrace passionately. “You and who else, you big lumox!”

“Perfect!” Artie shouts excitedly. “Now Blaine, kiss her!”

Blaine gives it his all, not willing to kiss Sugar more than strictly necessary. He doesn’t make it soft, and he reasons that it goes with the “passion” they’re trying to convey.

Yeah right. More like a punch with his lips.

“Great! Cut!” Artie orders, and Blaine barely manages not to push Sugar away too suddenly. “We’ll try again in a minute or two. Take five!”

Blaine takes a rag from one of the techie and wipes his mouth, smiling apologetically at the makeup artist who sighs and comes to him to apply some more make-up on his lips.

“Blaine,” Sugar says breathlessly once the man leaves, “you can’t kiss me like  _ that _ and not mean it a teensy bit!”

Blaine explodes, his anger cutting the rope of his patience short. “Meet the greatest actor in the world,” he shouts, and most eyes turn to him. “I’d rather kiss a tarantula!”

Sugar hiccups a laugh and reaches for his arm. “You don’t mean that,” she coos, and Blaine pulls away.

“Bring me a tarantula,” Blaine calls to no one in particular, his voice taking a bitter edge before returning his focus on her. “Sugar, for the very last time--,” he starts but Artie claps his hands, interrupting him.

“Alright, lovebirds, cut it out,” he says jovially. “Let’s get another take!”

The technicians are moving the light to return to the beginning of the scene, and Blaine sighs, ready to go back to his spot when Hollie strolls onto the set, looking furious.

“Hold it, Abrams!” she shouts, and the whole crew freezes.

Sebastian turns the romantic music into something a little more pompous, looking over at Blaine and winking.

“Why, Ms. Holiday,” Artie says, all charms as the producer approaches. “We were just rolling …”

“Well, you can stop rolling at once!” Hollie says angrily, tapping her high heels on the board of the set.

“S-stop?” Artie repeats, in shock. 

“Blaine, Sugar, come here,” Hollie tells them, and they both approach, along with Sebastian who tries to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Artie looks around at the crew. “Alright people, save it.”

“Save it,” Hollie repeats derisively. “Tell them to go home! We’re shutting down for a few weeks!”

Artie clutches his chest. “F--few  _ weeks _ ?!”

Hollie nods, serious as they ever saw her. Artie straightens up, picking up his megaphone. “Everybody, just go home--until further notice!”

Once the crew scatters away, Artie turns back to his producer. “What is going on here?”

Blaine gets closer, sitting down next to Sebastian. “Yeah, Hollie, what’s the matter?”

Hollie clenches her hands into fists. “The Jazz Singer, that’s what’s the matter! The Jazz Singer!”

Sebastian starts playing the main theme of the movie, until Blaine elbows him in the ribs to make him stop.

Hollie arranges a strand of hair from her high bun. “It’s a sensation,” she cries out, distraught before plopping herself between Blaine and Sebastian. “The public is screaming for more!”

“More?” Artie repeats. “More what?”

“Talking pictures!” Hollie shouts, standing up like she’s been pricked. “Talking pictures!”

Blaine tries to calm her down. “But it’s just a trick--”, he starts, and Hollie is right back in his face.

“A trick, yes!” she growls. “A trick we should have in this studio!” She pulls a cigar from her corsage, biting on the edge of it. “I said that talking pictures were a menace, but did someone listen to me? Nooo, of course.”

Pulling a couple of smokes from her cigar, she points it at Blaine. “Now we have to move forward,” she says decisively. “Blaine, we’re going to make the Dueling Cavalier a talking picture!”

Sebastian starts playing a waltz but Hollie shakes her head. “No, not a musical!” she pauses, considering Sebastian for a moment. “As a matter of fact, we won’t need mood music anymore.”

Sebastian jumps to his feet. “I’m fired?” he exclaims. “ _ That’s _ my reward, for my years of faithful services?!”

Hollie waves her hand in the hair. “You’re not fired,” she says placatingly. “We’re going to make a musical with Hunter Clarington. I’m putting you on as Vocal coach.”

Sebastian closes his mouth mid-rant and pats his chest. “Vocal Coach, eh? Now  _ that _ is a reward for my years of faithful service,” he says, smiling at Blaine before sitting back down.

Blaine will celebrate his friend’s good fortune--once this is all settled. “Now come on Hollie,” he says softly, “talking pictures? Why don’t we take the time to see if--”

Hollie puts her hand on his shoulder. “There is no time, Blaine,” she replies gently. “Every studio is jumping on the bandwagon, and every theater in the city is getting equipped to show talking movies. We can’t be left out of it. The Dueling Cavalier will be rushed, sure …”

“But we don’t know anything about this gadget,” Blaine pleads.

“What is there to know,” Hollie says, dismissing him entirely. “You do what you always did, but you add talking to it.”

Blaine considers it--it won’t be that much of a change, will it, and maybe it is the only viable option. “Well, the public will come to see it anyway,” he muses. “It will be an Anderson and Motta …”

Hollie beams at him. “Blaine, my boy, believe me!” she exclaims, pulling him close. “Picture it: Anderson and Motta--they talk!”

Sugar lets out a small derisive noise. “Well of course we talk!” she exclaims, her voice particularly sharp. “Doesn’t everybody?”

Slowly, the whole group turns to her, eyes widening as they realize what talking pictures actually entail.

That voice, coming out of speakers.

Oh boy.

Sebastian shakes his head. “Sugar, there might be one thing that will keep silent movies alive.”

“Really?”

“Your  _ voice _ .”


	4. Chapter 4

As it turned out, Hollie Holliday’s sense of business didn’t fail her.

Before they can realize it, dozens of talking pictures and even musical pictures are taking over every theater in town.

Luckily for Kurt, Sugar Motta’s power over Mr. Schuester didn’t extend to other companies, and he manages to get parts as a dancer and chorus boy in multiple pictures.

He’s so focused on making a good impression--after all, he only needs one impressed agent to get his ticket to New York, doesn’t he--that he doesn’t notice Ms. Holiday coming to the recording of such a scene;

\--

“Hunter, who’s that young man in the middle?” Hollie asks as she looks at the number. “He looks familiar.”

The dance director, Isabelle Wright, turns away from the scene to put her hand on Hollie’s arm, leaving Sebastian to survey it. “Oh, that’s the one I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve featured him in a couple of movies now, he’s so talented, isn’t he?”

“Indeed he is,” Hollie muses, pulling out a cigar and tapping it against her hip in time with the music, her eyes following Kurt’s figure as he dances and smiles with ease.

“Don’t you think he would be just perfect for the part of Hunter’s kid sister?”

“Say,” Hollie says slowly, picturing it already, “that’s a swell idea!”

Hunter pales a little but quickly recovers, sliding up to Hollie with the fakest smile Sebastian has ever seen on his face.

And that’s saying something.

“Don’t you think it should be someone a little less old,” he suggests sweetly, “or a little less tall …”

“Or a little less pretty,” Sebastian says not too discreetly, and Hollie smirks at Hunter at that.

“He will be perfect,” Hollie declares, puffing some of her smoke in Hunter’s face.

“Excuse me a moment,” Sebastian whispers to Isabelle before running out of the studio.

Once the scene is filmed, Isabelle calls for Kurt. “Kurt, my dear boy, i’d like you to meet Ms. Hollie Holiday. She’s thinking of casting you as Hunter’s sister.”

Kurt’s eyes widen at that, and he covers his mouth. “Oh!” he lets out, before holding up his hand to Hollie; “That’s wonderful, Ms. Holiday!”

“Here he is!”

They all turn to face Sebastian returning to the studio, followed by Blaine who beams at Kurt.

“Kurt,” he says, practically running up to them. “Hollie, this is Kurt Hummel!”

Kurt’s face closes up immediately, and he straightens up his outfit, standing as tall as possible.

“Well, thanks anyway Ms. Holliday,” he says, voice a bit choked up, “it was nice of you to think of me anyway …”

Blaine and Hollie frown at him. “Now wait just a minute, what--”

“That’s all right, Ms. Holliday,” Kurt continues, walking backwards, “no point in discussing it any further, I’ll be out of your air in a minute …”

“What--”

Kurt takes a deep breath and looks at them directly. “Well, before  _ Mr. Anderson _ refreshes your memory, you might as well know: I’m the one who hit Ms. Motta with the cake. But believe me,” he continues, his anger rising up once again, “I meant it for Mr. Anderson!”

Before either of them can reply anything, Kurt turns to the dance director. “I’m sorry, Isabelle, I should have told you about it. Goodbye …”

“Now wait just a minute,” Blaine cuts him off. “What is this all about? Hollie?”

Hollie looks a bit confused as well. “Well, we were going to hire Mr. Hummel for Hunter’s picture, but if it makes you and Sugar unhappy …”

“Unhappy?” Blaine exclaims, glancing at Kurt. “I think it’s wonderful!”

Sebastian leans forward, whispering quite loudly over Hollie’s shoulder, “He’s been looking for him around town for  _ weeks _ .”

“I have!”

Kurt’s head whips around to stare at him, in shock.

Hollie’s face takes a calculating look. “Blaine, are you speaking for Sugar as well?”

Blaine puts his hand on Hollie’s shoulder. “Hollie,” he says seriously, “the owner of New Directions may take his orders from Sugar, but  _ you  _ are the head of this studio.”

Hollie nods firmly. “I  _ am  _ the head of this studio,” she declares, “and  _ I  _ say he’s hired! Just …,” she pauses, winking at the two friends, “don’t let Sugar know he’s on the lot. Now, if that’s settled, take care of it Wright!”

With that, Hollie leaves and Isabelles clasps Kurt’s hands. “There you go!” she whispers happily before rushing to find a secretary to draft Kurt’s contract.

“Thank you, Ms. Holliday,” Kurt calls, delighted.

“Ahem.”

Kurt looks behind him, and he flushes as he realizes that he’s alone with Blaine.

Well, alone--Sebastian is still hanging around.

“Boy am I glad you turned up, Kurt,” he says, hands in his pocket as he bumps into Blaine. “We’ve been looking all over for you. I think Blaine was this close to offer a reward for--”

“Thank you Seb,” Blaine says softly, giving his friend a pointed look.

Sebastian nods and steps away, winking at Blaine and at Kurt on his way out.

“Did you--,” Kurt starts, crossing his arms over his chest, “did you really look all over for me?”

Blaine looks sheepish, eyes downcast as he comes closer. “I turned this whole town upside down to find you,” he confesses softly. I even got the New York office on it.”

He pauses, chuckling deprecatingly. “I remembered you said that the New York stage was clamoring for you, I thought, maybe, you’d …”

His voice trails off as he looks up, all boyish charm and … some vulnerability in his stance.

Kurt can’t help but smile at him, closing the distance between them. “A slight exaggeration on my part,” he says, his voice matching Blaine’s tone. “ _ I  _ was clamoring for it. But I did take off towards New York.”

“Ah,” Blaine says, squaring his shoulders as his mouth twists in a crooked smile. “Joined a traveling Shakespearean company, I suppose?”

Kurt lets out a little laugh that he will  _ not  _ call a giggle. “Oh please, Mr. Anderson,” he replies. “A dancing company. We were halfway to Iowa when the talkies happened. I thought I could make a name for myself in musicals, and … voilà.”

“And voilà,” Blaine repeats, his smile softening as they look at each other. “You know, up to now, I didn’t think much of the talkies,” he says thoughtfully, “but if that’s what brought you back here, then--then it’s the best invention since the wheel!”

Kurt frowns at him and takes a little step back. “Now, Mr. Anderson …”

“Now, Mr. Anderson,” Blaine cuts him, imitating his voice--and not so bad, Kurt must admit--, “just because you are a big shot doesn’t mean a boy like me will let you take him to lunch, just like that!”  Blaine pauses, dropping the act and offering Kurt his hand. “Will you, though? Go to lunch with me, just like that?”

Kurt would love to say no, to be able to say that he resisted Blaine Anderson’s charms and good looks and persuasive tone.

But he wants to say yes even more.

“Sure.”

\---

Blaine knows that he’s smiling like a loon, but nothing could put a damper on his mood.

“Main dining room is right this way,” he says with a flourish, his hand wrapped around Kurt’s. “It’s a short cut through the maze that is this studio …”

“Is it alright for you,” Kurt starts, his fingers comfortable in Blaine’s hold, “to be seen with me?”

“You mean, big star and humble actor?” Blaine teases, but Kurt shakes his head.

“I mean, don’t you usually take your lunch with Ms. Motta?”

Blaine stops them and holds up one hand, reluctant to let Kurt go. “Everything published about Sugar and me is sheer publicity, I assure you.”

Kurt twists his mouth and frowns at him. “It certainly seems more than that--all those pictures, and the articles in the fan magazines …”

Blaine smiles fondly at him. “So you  _ do  _ read the fan magazines?”

Kurt flushes, looking away, but it only makes Blaine’s fondness grow tenfolds. “Oh, I--I mean,” he babbles, and Blaine clamps his mouth shut. “I glance at it when I’m at the, uh, the dentist’s office …”

“Hm-hm.”

“Or I buy maybe one--or two--when I’m at the station …”

“Hm-hm.”

“Okay so maybe I buy four to five a month,” Kurt finishes lamely, and Blaine can’t resist any more, laughing until Kurt joins him. “And you do achieve a special kind of intimacy in all your pictures …”

“ _ All  _ my pictures?” Blaine teases, unable to resist the appeal of Kurt’s blushing cheeks.

Kurt sees right through him though, and lightly hip checks him. “Now that you mention it,” he replies softly, “I may have seen a couple, eight or nine of them …”

They laugh some more until Blaine cocks an eyebrow at him. “But I thought that if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all,” he comments, his imitation of Kurt’s haughty tone uncanny.

Kurt stops them and squeezes Blaine’s hand. “I did say some awful things that night, didn’t I.”

“Nothing I didn’t deserve,” Blaine replies, patting their joined hands before pulling Kurt so they start walking once again. “Though I’ll admit I was pretty upset at the time.”

He pauses, and they stop to let a group of dancers cross their way. 

“So upset, in fact,” he continues, voice dropping to almost a whisper, “that I haven’t been able to think about anything but you ever since.”

Kurt’s eyes are wide and shiny as he covers their hands with his own. “I have been a little upset myself,” he replies sincerely.

Blaine takes in the way Kurt looks, and it would be so easy to just tell him how he feels--it should be so easy.

But Blaine is not used to just go with his feelings. 

“God I’m such a ham,” he mumbles. “Kurt, I--seeing you again, it’s …”

Okay so he needs a staging.

“I need a proper setting.”

Kurt cocks his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Blaine looks around them and finds an empty studio--thank God for lunch breaks!

“Come with me.”

Kurt frowns, but he’s still smiling gently at him.

Small mercies.

“It’s an empty stage,” he comments and Blaine smirks at him.

“Wait just a minute,” he says, letting go of Kurt’s hand to turn on a spot. “Ta-daaa!”

“Tada?”

“Moonlight.”

“Ah.”

Blaine takes Kurt’s hand, and leads him to a ladder. “If you will?”

Kurt nods and climbs the ladder until his head is in the spot’s glow. “And what now?”

“The gentleman is on his balcony,” Blaine says, putting a hand over his heart melodramatically and Kurt giggles at him.

Blaine goes to stand right under the ladder. “You look lovely in the moonlight, Kurt--Lovelier than in my dreams …”

Kurt leans over the last step of the ladder, and glances down at Blaine. There is no mistaking the fondness in his looks, nor the softness of his smile. “And now,” he asks softly, somewhere between a plea and a tease, “can you say it?”

Blaine takes a deep breath, and without thinking, launches into a song.

It was sweet nothing, written a couple of days ago with Sebastian one night where they were  both feeling romantic, but now it makes all the sense in the world.

“ _ You were meant for me _

_ And I was meant for you _

_ Nature patterned you _

_ And when she was done _

_ You were all the sweet things _

_ Rolled up in one _

_ You’re like a plaintive melody _

_ That never lets me free _

_ But I’m content  _

_ The angels must have sent you _

_ And they meant you _

_ Just for me _ ”

As he sings, he never looks away from Kurt, and he can see the moments his words fully register in Kurt’s brain.

The moment his lips part in a delighted smile, the moment his eyes start shining in the spotlight because of unshed, happy tears.

The moment Kurt wants to walk down the ladder to jump in his arms.

Blaine brings the song to an end, repeating the last sentence as he goes to stand at the bottom of the ladder.

Kurt slowly walks down, putting his hands on his shoulders.

They both lean in--

“Mr. Anderson!”

“What is it?” Blaine asks softly, his eyes locked with Kurt’s.

“They’re waiting for you, Mr. Anderson--the rehearsals are starting!”

Blaine blinks, shaking himself from the daze he was in, and he sees Kurt shaking his head too, smiling shyly at him. “Well,” he starts, an embarrassed laugh in his voice.

“I’d better get back too,” Kurt says softly, leaning close to Blaine as he steps off the ladder. “I … really enjoyed this lunch.”

Blaine nods, but finds himself unable to let go of Kurt’s hand.

“I really should go to rehearsals,” Kurt continues, his eyes on their joined hands. “After all, I do have a part in a picture, don’t I?”

“You certainly do,” Blaine replies. “And it’s just the first one in a long serie, you--you’re going places, Kurt."

They stand there, holding hands, for another couple of minutes, but neither of them makes any attempt to walk away.

“You know,” Blaine says slowly, “in the movies, when a couple is separated, they always kiss like it’s the last time they’ll ever be able to for a long, long time.”

Surprisingly, Kurt takes a step forward, until his exhale brushes Blaine’s cheek. “Will this be a long, long time?” he asks demurely.

Blaine reaches up to cup Kurt’s cheek. “Ages,” he whispers back, “Til dinner.”

They both move into a soft kiss--it’s barely a brush of their lips, but it shakes Blaine to his core.

He feels like he’s been taken apart and put back together--moved, in his own skin.

“This time around,” Kurt asks, leaning his forehead against Blaine’s temple, “do you think we can have food with our dinner?”

Blaine kisses him one more time with a laugh on the tip of his tongue, before they do part.

\---

As much as Blaine loves this early moments with Kurt, discovering each other and falling a little bit more in love every day, he can count on Sebastian to bring him back to Earth.

“Rehearsals start tomorrow,” Sebastian says, oddly serious as he stands in their living room.

“Hm-hm.”

“Have you learned your lines?”

“Hm-hm.”

“Earth to Blaine, Earth to Blaine, do you copy?”

“Hm-hm.”

“I’m going to fuck a giraffe.”

“Hm-hm.”

“And maybe marry it, make an honest animal out of it.”

“Hm-hm, that’s nice …”

“Blaine!”

Blaine startles, nearly falling off the couch. “What?”

“Are you ready for your first talking rehearsals, Mr. Anderson?” Sebastian repeats, lifting the script from the table.

Blaine blushes and looks sheepish for a moment. “I suppose I could go through my lines one more time.”

“You do that,” Sebastian says. “And I’ll entertain Mr. Hummel until you are ready.”

“But--”

“No buts.”

“That’s new for you,” Blaine says, poking his tongue at Sebastian when his friend gives him a deadpan look.

“And don’t forget,” Sebastian adds as he closes the door, “we are meeting the vocal coach first thing in the morning.”

Blaine nods, already focusing on the pages before he looks up, a look of glee on his face.

“Can’t wait to see Sugar in those lessons,” he says with a merciless chuckle.

“Oh boy.”

\---

“Repeat after me, Miss Motta,” Miss Pilsburry says, pointing at a chart. “Ah, Eh, Eeh, Oh, Ooh.”

Sugar rolls her eyes. “Ay, Eh, Eeh, Wow, You.”

Miss Pilsburry’s fingers tightens around her baton. “No, no, no : Ah.”

“Ay.”

“Remember, Miss Motta, round tones, round tones.”

“Ain’t what I’m doin’?”

The vocal coach closes her eyes and focuses on her breathing. “Repeat after me. And I ‘cahn’t’  _ stand _ him.”

“And I can’t  _ stand _ him,” Sugar repeats, her nasal voice growing surprisingly stronger with her effort.

“And I ‘cahn’t’ stand him!”

“And I caaan’t stand him!”

“Cahn’t.”

“Can’t.”

Cahn’t!”

“Cahn’t?”

\---

“Cahn’t. Cahn’t.”

“Very good, Mr. Anderson,” Blaine’s coach congratulates him. “Now, repeat after me: around the rocks the rugged rascal ran.”

Blaine glares at his back before smiling when the coach faces him. “Around the rocks--”

“No no no,” the coach stops him, putting his hand over Blaine’s mouth. “A _ rrrrr _ ound the  _ rrr _ ocks.”

“Around the rocks, the rugged rascal ran,” Blaine repeats, accentuating his r’s.

Sebastian enters the room, a script in his hand and a pen over his ear. “Hiya Blaine.”

“Hey Seb.”

“How is he doing, teach?”

The coach pouts before nodding. “Very good, Mr. Smythe, but there is still room for progress.”

“As always.”

The man nods before returning his attention to Blaine, nearly catching him making faces. “Now : Sinful Caesar sipped his snifter--”

“Feeling good, Blaine?”

“Just dainty, Sebastian.”

“Do you mind?”

Blaine snorts. “Don’t mind him.”

“Ahem,” the teacher says, giving Sebastian a disdainful look. “Sinful Caesar sipped his snifter, seized his knees and sneezed.”

Blaine gives him a look of disbelief before clearing his throat. “Sinful Caesar snipped his sifter--”

“Sipped his snifter, sipped his snifter,” the coach corrects him.

“Sipped his snifter,” Sebastian echoes, a smirk on his face.

Blaine smiles a fake smile at him. “Sinful Caesar sipped his snifter, seized his knees and sneezed,” he repeats, with a little curtsey at the end.

“Marvelous, Blaine, marvelous,” the teacher exclaims happily.

“Marvelous, absolutely marvelous,” Sebastian adds, batting his eyelashes at Blaine until he laughs. “What else do you have, teach?”

The coach beams at Sebastian, clearly delighted to be asked more of his tongue twisters. “Charlie chooses chestnuts, cheddar cheese with chewy chives. He chews them and chooses them--he chooses them and chews them, those chestnuts, cheddar cheese and chives in cheering charming chunks.”

Sebastian and Blaine exchange one look, and off they go, repeating the sentence in unison.

Now that’s apparently the equivalent of a thrown glove to the teacher’s face, for he humphs and continues. “Moses supposes his toeses are roses, but Moses supposes erroneously. But Moses he knowses his toeses aren’t roses, as Moses supposes his toeses to be!”

Blaine beams at the teacher as he starts repeating it, and there is definitely a musicality to it, isn’t it, a rhythm, a beat, something … stirring.

Sebastian follows his lead, and soon, they are dancing around the room, around the poor coach, singing about Moses and his toeses and his roses.

“I--I think you’re ready, Mr. Anderson,” the teacher says once they’re done, gathering his charts and his coat before running away.

“That was swell,” Sebastian says, wiping his sweaty brow with the teacher’s forgotten scarf.

“It was,” Blaine says, a bit breathless. “I hope filming will be as well.”

“Swell as well?”

“Oh shut it.”


	5. Chapter 5

Back in the costume, Blaine looks where every wire has been installed to make sure that he won’t trip on his way down the stairs.

But he has to admit that Sugar makes for a much more entertaining view.

She’s once again wrapped up in the corset and large 18th century dress and wig, and Artie is giving her instructions before going back into the booth with all the recording equipment.

“Oh, Pierre, you shouldn’t have come,” Sugar says melodramatically. “You are  _ flirting _ with  _ dan _ ger--”

“Cut, cut!”

“What’s the matter, Artie,” Blaine asks, coming out of his spot. 

“It’s her!” Artie exclaims, looking on the verge of a breakdown. “Look, Sugar, remember what I told you?”

She looks at him with a blank stare.

“About the microphone?”

“Uh?”

“About how it’s in the bush?”

“Yeah. So?”

Artie takes a deep breath. “You’ve got to  _ talk  _ in it.”

“But I  _ was  _ talkin’, wasn’t I Miss Pilsburry?”

The vocal coach comes running. “Yes you were, dear. Remember: round tones. Pi-erre, not Pierre.”

“Pi-erre,” Sugar repeats, her nasal tone taking over, “you shouldn’t have come.”

“Hold it a minute,” Artie cuts heatedly with a frown. “Now look, Sugar. Here’s the microphone.” he says, reaching into the bush and lifting it.

“Yeah.”

“When you talk  _ in  _ the microphone,” Artie continues, softening his tone, “it goes through the wire and in the booth.”

“Yeah.”

“But you have to talk in it first!”

Sugar’s blank stare makes a return.

“Talk. In. The Bush!” Artie says before returning to the booth, slamming the door behind him.

“Gee, this is dumb,” Suhar says dejectedly, ruffling her skirt.

As angry as he was with Sugar for going after Kurt the way she did, Blaine still has some level of affection for her--after all, they worked together for a long time, and he … he still cares about her.

“Don’t worry, Sugar,” he says softly, “it’s only the first day; Once we get this circus running, it’s gonna be great!”

Sugar smiles at him and nods, which puts the balance of her wig in peril and the makeup team runs to her to fix it.

“Oh, by the way Artie,” Blaine says, knocking on the booth’s door, “this whole line, “Princess of the night”, blabla--do you mind if I just say what I always do, “I love you, I adore you, etc.” ?”

“As long as you say it  _ in the mike _ ,” Artie replies hotly. “Okay, again? Places! Quiet! Rolling!”

Sugar starts fanning herself as Blaine approaches the bench, and she repeats the line, leaning towards the bush every two words.

“No, no, no, Cut!” Artie shouts, huffing and puffing. “Sugar, we only get every other word! You need to talk to the mike, make love to the mike …”

“Well,” Sugar replies angrily, “I can’t make love to a  _ bush _ !”

Artie sighs. “Okay, I’ll think of something.”

\---

“What is this?” 

The wardrobe woman looks up from Sugar’s bosom. “I’m wiring you, Miss Motta.”

“What???”

The woman smiles, patting Sugar’s hand. “I’m putting the microphone in this flower, see? So that you can be recorded any way you speak, honey.”

“It’s Sugar.”

The woman is startled by it, but she keeps working sewing the flower into the corsage.

“Now remember,” Miss Pilsburry approaches, “be careful with your flat a’s.”

“Everybody's pickin’ on me,” Sugar whines, and Blaine winces.

“Let’s try it,” Artie says, and Blaine joins him in the booth.

Over Sugar’s voice, they hear a steady beat.

“What is that?” Artie asks, looking around the set, and Blaine has to focus to keep from laughing hysterically.

“It’s her heart, Artie,” he says, voice shaking in spite of himself.

“Swell,” Artie deadpans. “Okay, what else can we do?”

\---

“Alright, that should do it,” Artie comments with a nervous smile while the wardrobe woman adjusts the corsage on Sugar’s shoulder, and a technician pulls the wire from under her dress. “Now, Sugar, no jerky movements, or you might disconnect the cable.”

Sugar humphs and glares at him, ruffling the dress over the cable to hide it.

“Places. Ready? Quiet!” Artie shouts, closing the booth’s door. “Rollin’!”

“Oh, Pierre,” Sugar starts, “you shouldn’t have come. You are flirting with danger, and your head is--aaaah!”

She shouts, falling backwards as the wire is roughly yanked from under her.

“What the Hell,” Blaine whispers, helping her back to her feet.

“What is going on here?” Artie shouts, practically foaming at the mouth.

All the eyes in the room follow the wire--up to an apologetic Hollie Holliday, who still holds it in her hand. “I thought it was dangerous,” she says with a wince. “Sorry?”

“And again!” Artie shouts, pulling at his hair.

\---

_ A couple of weeks later _

“Ready for the public preview?” Sebastian asks as he comes out of the car, helping Kurt out and then Blaine.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Blaine says, feeling more nervous than for any of his premieres.

“You two better not go in there together,” Sebastian says, pulling Kurt’s arm and linking it with his.

“Kurt,” Blaine starts, reaching for his free hand, “you know I wish--”

“I understand,” Kurt says, squeezing Blaine’s hand before cupping his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll lead the cheering squad from the balcony.”

They exchange a small kiss under Sebastian’s careful eyes, and Blaine lets go of Kurt’s hand.

“Don’t I get a kiss too?” Sebastian asks, and Blaine rolls his eyes before pecking his lips. 

“Off you go.”

Inside the theater, Blaine meets up with Sugar, Artie and Hollie, and he tries his hardest not to turn every two seconds to look at Kurt and Sebastian, sitting in the row behind them.

As the screen shows the title cards and Blaine and Sugar’s names, the audience applauds enthusiastically, and Holly smiles confidently.

The movie starts, and Artie really outdid himself: the shots of the French castle are beautiful--one would think they actually shot at Versailles--, the transitions between each panel are flawless.

On the screen, Sugar appears, playing with her pearl necklace--and a thunderous noise shakes the room.

“Is it the storm from outside?” Hollie whispers, and Artie shakes his head, looking a little pale. 

“No,” he replies, “it’s those pearls, Ms. Holliday.”

Blaine bites his lips, and slides a little in his seat.

No matter how much Ms. Pilsburry tried to make her work on her diction, Sugar sounds anything but aristocratic when she says her lines--it’s even worse when her voice stands next to the other actresses in the movie, who managed to modulate their voices.

“... My father has betrothed me to the Baron de Landsfield, and I  _ caaaahn’t  _ stand him.”

“Oh Lord,” Blaine mutters, covering his face.

Not too far from them, two men start giggling, only to be hushed by Kurt.

“But I  _ cahn’t _ get  _ Pi-erre  _ out of my head!”

“She sounds like my cousin Roxie,” someone says behind Blaine, and all he can think is to send his condolences to cousin Roxie while he slides a little bit closer to the ground.

A look to his left shows a very satisfied Sugar, a pale Artie and a seething Hollie.

_ Shit _ .

“She couldn’t remember where the mike was, boss,” Artie whispers to Hollie when the garden scene happens on screen, and once again, all they can hear from Sugar is a cut sentence.

“Pierre---come--danger--valuable!”

Blaine himself appears on the screen, and he can hear Sebastian and Kurt groaning behind him.

Sure enough, he has kept the training from silent pictures, over acting his lines and enunciating like his life depends on it.

Overall, with the sound, he looks … He looks demented, and a little stupid too.

“Oh my,” Kurt whispers, reaching forward to pat his shoulder.

“Oh Pierre,” Sugar says on screen, smacking Blaine lightly with her fan. “The night is full of our enemies.”

Except that the hit Blaine takes sounds like she’s using a stick on a drum.

“Watch it Sugar,” someone in the audience shouts while the majority laughs their heart out.

“Imperious princess of the night,” Screen-Blaine says, picking up Screen-sugar’s hand, “I love you.”

“Oh Pi-erre.”

“I love you.”

“Oh, Pieeerre.”

“I love you.”

“Gee did someone really got paid to write that dialogue?” someone shouts, and another wave of laughter goes through the audience.

From the corner of his eye, Blaine can even see members of the audience leaving, shaken by their laugh.

_ This is a disaster. _

The screen flashes white, for just a second, but when it returns, Blaine and Artie straighten up in their seat.

“What the--”

“The sound!”

“It’s out of synchronization now!”

“Go tell them to fix it,” Hollie hisses, and Artie rushes out of the room to get to the technicians.

“Oh my God,” Kurt says, eyes glued to the screen.

As far as Blaine is concerned, it’s something out of his worst nightmare. Now, not only do his dramatics look even more ridiculous, but his voice doesn’t match his lips.

And if he thought he had seen the worst of it, he’s proven wrong in the minutes that follow.

The screen shows Sugar in the “Villain’s” arms, and the desynchronization results in their lines being …

Switched.

As in, Elliott’s voice comes out of Sugar’s mouth.

And vice versa.

Hollie’s eyes are wide and her jaw reaches for the ground. “Somebody needs to do something,” she whispers, horrified.

The action on screen slows down to a stop, frozen on Blaine rushing into the shot.

In-the-flesh Blaine is frozen in his seat too, along with Hollie; Artie returns to them, eyes drawn to his lap; and Sugar doesn’t seem to understand how deep they digged their own grave.

The audience leaves, laughing and booing. “Oh this is a scream,” one woman says, wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks.

“Gimme the Jazz Singer, please!”

“I love you, I love you, I looove yooouuu!” one man declaims, and Blaine puts his hat over his face.

“We’re ruined,” Holly says, voice flat and dejected.

“No--you can’t … you can’t release this movie!” Blaine says, eyes wide.

“I have to!” Holly exclaims, pulling her hair out of its intricate coiffe. “It’s booked to open in six weeks!”

She stops freaking out, looking at Blaine and Sugar. “But you two are such big stars, maybe it will … maybe it will be okay.”

“I never want to see an Anderson and Motta ever again!” some people shout from the balcony as they leave, and they all wince.

“I never want to  _ hear _ Motta ever again!” someone adds, provoking more laughter.

Sugar doesn’t seem to hear it and she shrugs a fur boa over her shoulders. “Well, I liked it,” she says happily, strutting out of the room.

Blaine sighs, his face in his palm, and Kurt and Sebastian come from their seats to pull him in a hug.

“Come on,” Kurt says, kissing his cheek, “let’s go home.”

\---

Kurt comes out of his kitchen, carrying drinks and snacks, and he sighs when he sees Blaine wrapped in Sebastian’s embrace.

He puts the tray down and goes to put his arms around Blaine, his chest to Blaine’s back. “Blaine, honey, are you okay?” he asks softly, kissing the back of his neck.

“Sure, s-sure,” Blaine replies, voice soft and miserable.

Over Blaine’s head, Kurt exchanges a look with Sebastian and they both wince.

Kurt and Blaine may not have been together as long as Sebastian has known him, but they both know the same thing.

That Blaine is blaming himself for the all fiasco, and that if they don’t intervene, he’s going to let himself down a spiral of despair.

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt starts, “it wasn’t … it wasn’t  _ so  _ bad.”

“That’s what I have been trying to tell you,” Sebastian adds, raking his fingers through Blaine’s hair. “It wasn’t brilliant, but not a complete disaster.”

Blaine looks up from the crook of Sebastian’s neck, where he has buried his face, and glares at him. “Repeat that with a straight face.”

“Sorry, champ, I don’t do straight.”

“Sebastian,” Kurt says in warning.

“Don’t try to coddle me,” Blaine says, straightening up to sit between them more comfortably, and they both scoot closer to press against him. “Once they release this picture, Anderson and Motta will be … history.  _ I’m _ history.”

Kurt pats his knee reassuringly. “Well,” he starts, trying to find something comforting, “things definitely went wrong with the sound--all we need is to get the technicals straightened out, and maybe redo a couple of scenes …”

Blaine stands up and starts pacing. “You’re very sweet, both of you, but it’s not just that. I guess you two are the only ones in the world I’d bare to show me this, this--” Blaine pauses, a wet hiccup cutting him off, and Sebastian sits on the edge of the couch while Kurt lifts his hand towards him. “Tonight shook me,” Blaine continues, looking up. “Everything you said about me was true, Kurt--I’m nothing but a shadow, an empty shell with no talent!”

Kurt stands up, pulling him into a hug. “You know I never meant that,” he says soothingly, rubbing Blaine’s back. “Though it wasn’t perfect, I was so proud to see you on that screen tonight.”

“I hope so,” Blaine hiccups. “God, I want you to be proud of me, and this--travesty, was nothing to be proud of.”

“Blaine …”

“No!” he exclaims, looking desperate. Sebastian goes to stand next to Kurt, closer to Blaine. “I’m no actor, tonight showed me that! I’m just a, a, a big balloon, filled with my own self importance!”

Sebastian frowns at him and Kurt bites his lower lip.

“Well, the lighting has struck this balloon, and there is no way to look around it : I. Am. Nothing.”

Sebastian nudges Kurt. “Well, at least he’s taking it lying down.”

Blaine turns to his best friend. “I’m not kidding, Seb,” he says, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Did you ever see anything as idiotic as me, on that screen, tonight?”

“Sugar comes to mind.”

Blaine lets out a humorless chuckle. “Okay, so I was a close second,” he says dejectedly. “I’m through, guys.”

Kurt stomps his feet to the ground and goes to Blaine, cupping his face with both hands to make him look at him. “You are not through, Blaine Anderson,” he says passionately. Sebastian follows and goes to hug Blaine from behind.

“Of course you are not through,” he coos. “What, with your looks and your charm, you could drive an ice wagon, or …”

“Or shine shoes,” Kurt teases.

“Sell pencils!”

“Block hats!”

Sebastian lifts him in the air and Blaine laughs in spite of himself. “Or worse,” he says, patting Sebastian’s shoulders to be put back on the ground, “I could return to vaudeville!”

“Goodbye Anderson and Motta, and hello to Anderson, Hummel and Smythe!” Kurt exclaims, sitting at the piano, joined by Sebastian.

“We’re on!”

They start singing one of Blaine and Sebastian’s old song, until Blaine’s good mood evaporates, and he lets himself drop on the couch again.

“Too bad I didn’t think of that for the Dueling Cavalier,” he says sadly. “They might have like it.”

The moment the idea takes shape in his mind, Kurt slams his fingers on the keys, making the two men jump. “Well, why don’t you?” he says, standing up to sit on the table in front of Blaine.

“What?”

“Make a musical!”

Blaine shakes his head. “No, you heard Hollie, she doesn’t want us to make a musical.”

Sebastian goes to sit next to Kurt. “Believe me, Blainey-boy, Hollie will accept anything that could save her and the studio from ruin.”

“We don’t have enough time!”

Kurt shakes his head. “You and Sebastian have hundreds of songs just waiting to become public,” he says--he has heard the pair sing into the night more than once, and the songs … They’re good.

Catchy, and fun, and the public will love it.

“All you need to do,” he continues, a plan forming in his head, “is to build them into a script--I’m sure Artie will work with you, his reputation is on the line too.”

“I can make the arrangements,” Sebastian says, touched by Kurt’s enthusiasm. “And choreography should be a breeze, right Kurt?”

“We add the songs, some dance numbers, we cut the bad scenes, add a couple of good ones--”

“And we’ve got ourselves a movie!” Sebastian exclaims. “A good one!”

Blaine sits up, looking between them with a hopeful smile. “You really think we can do it?”

“Of course you can do it!” Kurt and Sebastian say together, pulling Blaine into a hug.

Blaine jumps to his feet, followed by the two other men. “The picture  _ can  _ be saved,” he says with a slowly growing smile. “Let’s make a musical!”

“Hallelujah,” Sebastian replies, throwing his hands in the air.

“Listen, if we can pull this off, this day will definitely make history,” Blaine tells them, pouring some coffee for all of them. “March 23rd, the day Blaine Anderson did not throw the towel.”

“24th.”

“Uh?”

Kurt nods towards the large clock that thrones on top of the piano, ringing 1.30a.m. “It’s morning already.”

Blaine and Sebastian exchange a look and Kurt smiles at them fondly as they both rush to the piano, happy notes tinkling down the strings.

As they play with their four hands, Kurt starts singing along, his hands on their shoulders.

“ _ When we left the movie show _

_ The future wasn't bright _

_ But came the dawn _

_ The show goes on _

_ And I don't wanna say good night _ ”

Sebastian and Blaine look over their shoulders to wink at him. “ _ So say, Good Mornin' _ !”

“ _ Good mornin’! _ ”

“ _ Good mornin’ to you _ !”

They dance around, Kurt leading the three of them across the living room before they fall back on the couch, deliriously happy and out of breath.

Kurt leans in to kiss Blaine, and Blaine pulls him closer. “Now we need to work on--,” he starts before groaning.

“What?” Sebastian asks, leaning his head on Kurt’s shoulder.

“Maybe  _ I  _ can do this, but what about Sugar?”

Sebastian visibly deflates, and Kurt reaches up to pat his head.

“Right, Sugar,” Sebastian grumbles. “She can’t act--”

“Nope.”

“She can’t sing.”

“Definitely not.”

“And she can’t dance--a downright triple threat,” Sebastian concludes, wiping his face. “And we can’t just kick her out.”

He pauses, and taps on Blaine’s shoulder. “We can’t, can we?”

“No, Sebastian, we can’t,” Blaine replies with a sigh, “she’s far too influential in this city.”

“Damn.”

After a moment of gloomy silence, Kurt remembers the disastrous evening--and he completely blames the all-nighter on his reaction.

He starts laughing.

“We lost him,” Sebastian whispers sotto voce.

“No, no,” Kurt says, hiccuping a laugh, “I was just thinking that I actually quite liked Sugar’s performance tonight.”

Blaine and Sebastian cock an eyebrow each at him. “Definitely lost him.”

“No!” Kurt exclaims, still laughing. “When the sound went off, and she went ‘Yes, Yes, Yes’!” he explains, dropping his voice to Elliott’s tone.

Sebastian snorts. “No, no, no,” he says in an imitation of Sugar’s high voice.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Kurt repeats, openly giggling now.

Sebastian and Blaine join him, all laughing at the memory when Sebastian holds up his hand.

“Hold on,” he says, standing up and climbing on the table. “I’m about to be absolutely brilliant.”

With a jump, Sebastian is in front of them, helping Kurt to his feet. “Get behind me,” he instructs.

Kurt slides one hand up his hip. “I knew it was only a matter of time,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at Blaine who returns the gesture.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Keep that for later,” he says sternly. “Get behind me, and start singing.”

Kurt sighs and rolls his eyes at him, but does as he said, singing a couple of lines from the song they just created.

“Now, Blainey-Boy, keep your eyes on me. Kurt, keep singing.”

Kurt frowns, but does as he’s told.

“Is it convincing?” Sebastian says after a couple of lines, and Blaine offers his hand to Kurt, bringing him down to his lap.

“Enchanting.”

“Don’t you  _ see _ ?”

“All I saw was Kurt’s voice and you mouthing--,” Blaine starts, his eyes widening. “Use Kurt’s voice to cover for Sugar?!”

Kurt covers his mouth. “That would be wonderful!”

Blaine beams at him before frowning. “Kurt, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Why not?!”

“‘Cause you deserve to be in the spotlight, not hidden behind Sugar!” Blaine replies. “You’d be throwing away your career!”

Kurt waves his hand in the air to make him quiet. “This has nothing to do with my career,” he replies, putting his hands on Blaine’s shoulders. “It’s just this one picture, to save the movie, save the studio--” He pauses, crossing his arms around Blaine’s neck to pull him closer. “Save you.”

“Just this one picture,” Blaine replies, nuzzling Kurt’s cheek. “You really think we can swing it?”

“I really do,” Kurt says. “And I’m sure we can find a way around the dancing.”

Blaine lets out a short laugh, detaching himself from Kurt to tapdance around before coming back to him. “I’ll just dance around Sugar, and I’ll teach her to take a graceful bow.”

“Then we’re set!” Kurt says happily, pulling Blaine back to him. “Oh, Blaine, you’re a genius.”

Behind them, Sebastian huffs and digs his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, gee Blaine, am I glad that  _ you  _ thought of that …”

Kurt and Blaine go to him, pressing kisses on his face. “Thank you, Seb,” they coo at him.

Blaine pulls Sebastian for a kiss, before doing it to Kurt too. “Listen to me, you two : there are two geniuses in this room, and I’m not one of them, okay? Sebastian, you’re great.” Another kiss. “Kurt, you are wonderful.” Another, deeper kiss. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Fall into despair--”

“And end up begging on Rodeo Drive.”

“Nice.”

When Sebastian and Blaine make to leave, Kurt kisses them both, and fixes their collars.

“We wouldn’t want you two to get sick in this rain, would we,” he says, sending them on their way.

Blaine looks up and hands his umbrella to Sebastian. “I don’t know for you, buddy,” he says, arranging his hat and putting his hands in his pockets, “but from where I stand, the Sun is shining all over the place.”

Sebastian smiles at him from under the umbrella, and they walk home with a whistled tune on their lips.


	6. Chapter 6

“That’s wonderful!”

Hollie stands up from her chair and joins them on the other side of her desk to clasps their hands. “It’s just wonderful, my boys!”

Blaine and Sebastian smile at her--they’re not about to contradict her on that account.

“Now, all we need is to keep the secret under wrap until the release,” she says before twisting her mouth. “I’m still worried about Sugar though. She doesn’t like Mr. Hummel very much--there might be fireworks.”

Blaine steps forward to pat her arm. “I’ll make sure Sugar doesn’t even know Kurt is on the lot.”

Hollie beams at him and gently pats his cheek. “Well then, it’s settled. The Dueling Cavalier can be saved!”

She pulls cigars from a box and pauses. “The title is not right, though? Blaine?”

Blaine blinks, trying to come up with something a little more catchy. 

“The …,” he starts, pacing the room. “No, no that’s not right.”

Sebastian crosses his path, pacing too. “What about--no, no.”

Hollie taps the cigar against her lips, mouthing words while her frown deepens.

Sebastian claps his hand. “The Dancing Cavalier?” he proposes, already triumphant, and Blaine smiles at him, clapping his hands too.

“That’s great!” Hollie exclaims. “The Dancing Cavalier, that’s it! Sebastian, remind me to make you a screenwriter.”

Sebastian smiles at her, acting coy. “Thanks, Hollie.”

Hollie offers them both a cigar, and they resume their pacing. “Now, what about the story,” she says, puffing on her own. “We need modern dances--the public will not like 18th century minuet or Allemande.”

Sebastian frowns, and Blaine can hear the cogs turning in his head.

Out of the two of them, he may be the showman, but Sebastian is the schemer.

“I got it,” Sebastian says, snapping his fingers and putting the unlit cigar over his ear. “We have this main character--modern, young hoofer, trying to get into Broadway shows. Right?”

“Right.”

“We follow his progress, until he gets into a show. Right?”

“Right.”

“Then, one night, while he reads “The Tale of Two Cities”, a bag of sand just falls over his head,” Sebastian says, painting the picture with his words. “And ta-daaa, he dreams that he is living the French revolution.”

“Right!”

“So we get modern dance numbers  _ and  _ all the scenes in costumes, right?”

“Right!” Hollie exclaims, clapping him on the back while Blaine slowly claps him, smiling proudly at his best friend’s ingenuity. “That is sensational. Smythe, remind me to give you a raise!”

She lights up all their cigars, and they puff on it a couple of times before Sebastian clears his throat and taps her lightly on the shoulder. “Oh, Hollie?”

“Hm?”

“Gimme a raise.”

\---

From that point on, it all goes remarkably fast.

The design of the modern costumes, the sets, the choreography, and the recording of the songs.

While the whole studio seems delighted to have Kurt in the recording booth, the poor technicians who have to listen to Sugar sing--to keep up the pretenses and most of all, keep Kurt away from her wrath--can’t wait for it to end.

Blaine knows exactly where  _ he  _ wants to be.

Next to the conductor, watching Kurt trying not to smile too wide as he sings what is supposed to be a melancholic and romantic song, but not to avail every time his eyes meets Blaine’s.

He even makes shooing motions at him, focusing on the microphone in front of him, while the orchestra plays the soft melody.

“ _ They met as you and I,  _

_ And they were only friends. _

_ But before the story ends… _

_ He'll kiss her with a sigh. _

_ Would you? Would you _ ?”

Sebastian and him wrote that a night where they were both reminiscing--thinking of how Kurt had managed to slide into their lives, seamlessly making sense of everything they had built so far.

The necessity to change the pronouns for the need of the movie does not sit well with either of them, but Blaine is a pragmatic.

And if he sings it to Kurt, with the correct pronouns, once the microphone is off, it’s nobody’s business.

\---

Sebastian knew that he had the right idea, with his subterfuge to save everybody from Sugar’s voice, but he didn’t expect it to work so well.

But once the scene is recorded, there is no way to mistake it for the genius idea that it is.

To anybody looking in from the outside, it appears that Miss Motta has the sweetest, purest, most enchanting voice in the world.

He can give her that, at least--Sugar Motta knows how to act, and how to move her lips at the proper time.

Now if she only knew when to shut them …

“It’s perfect,” Hollie declares when they finish watching the piece of film Artie showed them. “That Hummel boy is sensational!” Blaine beams at him and Sebastian nods enthusiastically. “Once that movie is done, I’ll give him a big build up.”

Sebastian and Blaine keep on nodding, vibrating in their skins to go and tell Kurt that he doesn’t have to worry about his career anymore.

Hollie focuses on Blaine and Artie. “Is there much left to do?”

“One more big scene,” Blaine replies.

“And several little ones to make it all go smoothly,” Artie adds next to him.

“What’s the big scene?”

Blaine smiles in anticipation, and Sebastian can’t help but smile back at the enthusiasm on his friend’s face.

“It’s for the modern part of the movie,” he explains, “Broadway Ballet.”

Hollie smiles at him, moving her hand to prompt him to say more.

Blaine picks up a hat from the accessories stand and jumps on the stage in front of the screen. “Our young--”

“Dashing,” Sebastian adds.

Blaine glares playfully at him and nods. “Our young, dashing hero only has one goal in life : dancing on a Broadway stage.”

He tap dances across the stage, and Sebastian, Artie and two of his assistants go to stand on his way.

“ _ Gotta dance _ ,” Blaine sings to each of them, and one after the other, everybody turns their back on him, until he reaches Artie who shakes his hand. “ _ Evr’body dance _ !”

Hollie takes a step back, and the dancers planned out for the scene join Blaine and Sebastian--one more rehearsal before shooting won’t hurt anybody.

Sebastian knows that maybe, possibly, they went a little overboard with this scene, with the fast succession of ballet and group dances and cancan, but it will be spectacular--definitely what they need to reel the public in.

When he spots Kurt at the back of the room, observing the whole spectacle and clapping his hands in time with the beat with Ms. Pilsburry, Sebastian doubles his effort for a clean dance, subtly pushing Blaine forward for the finale.

“Blaine, you were fantastic,” Kurt gushes when they stop, as Artie tells the whole troop to get changed so they can record it while it’s still “hot”. He leans to press a kiss to Blaine’s cheek, then a quicker one to Sebastian’s. “That was more energy than I thought possible!”

“And it was just rehearsal,” Sebastian pipes up, winking at Kurt as he walks away.

Neither of them has said anything, but Sebastian knows when he’s a welcome addition and when the two lovebirds need to be left alone.

\---

“What are you doing here?” Blaine asks, putting his hands on Kurt’s waist. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you, but--”

“Artie said that some dialogue, some lines needed to be shot again; Something about Sugar’s changing the script?”

Blaine twists his mouth and reaches up to kiss Kurt’s forehead. “I knew she changed her line a couple of times.” He pauses, and calms himself as he takes Kurt’s quiet smile. “Let me accompany you to the studio. For … practice purpose.”

“Practice, uh,” Kurt says with a smirk, linking their arms. “That’s how you wanna call it?”

“Why, Mr. Hummel,” Blaine replies sternly, his tone belied by the fondness of his smile, “I am a gentleman.”

“I never said you weren’t,” Kurt says in a whisper, leaning in to lightly bite Blaine’s earlobe. “Never said I was one either.”

“Oh.” Blaine pauses, images of what Kurt’s words are implying bouncing around in his head before he can shake himself out of the daze. “Let’s get you to the recording booth.”

*

“Alright, let’s try it.”

Kurt has headphones over his head and he nods.

The screen blinks and Sugar’s face, in full 18th century costume, fills it. “Nothing can keep us apart,” she says, and the three men wince at the high pitch she tries to use to sound more dignified. “Our love will last til the stars turn cold.”

Kurt mouths the lines and gives them a curt nod. 

Blaine looks into the cabin, and gives Kurt a countdown with his hand.

_ Three, two, one … _

“Nothing can keep us apart,” Kurt says, passionate and yet vulnerable as his eyes stay on Blaine. “Our love will last til the stars turn cold.”

His rhythm matches Sugar’s, but the tone is uncomparatively better suited for the scene.

Matching his counterpart on screen, Blaine puts a gentle hand on Kurt’s shoulder to make him turn around. “I love you,” he says softly before pulling Kurt into a soft kiss.

“Blaine …,” Kurt whispers, eyes dark as he goes for another kiss.

“I can’t wait til this movie is finished,” Blaine continues, his hands sliding down Kurt’s back to settle on the small of it. “No more secrets, no more hiding--I’ll tell Sugar, I’ll let everybody know--”

“Your fans will be bitterly disappointed,” Kurt teases happily, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s neck.

“From now on, there’s only one fan I want to care about,” Blaine replies, leaning in for another kiss.

His tongue barely caressed Kurt’s lips when the door of the studio slams opened, revealing Hunter and Sugar.

“There!” Hunter says gleefully, “told ya!”

Sugar’s eyes are wide as she opens and closes her mouth before settling on a frown. “Thanks, Hunt’, you’re a real pal!” she exclaims, marching towards them. “I want him out of the lot!” she screeches in their faces, though Blaine chooses to stand between her and Kurt. “He will  _ not  _ be my voice. Hunter told me everything!”

“Thanks, Hunt,” Blaine says sarcastically at the starlet. “You’re a  _ real  _ pal.”

“Anytime, Blaine,” Hunter replies sweetly before leaving them to deal with the mess he created.

“Now look, Miss Motta,” Kurt tries softly, “Blaine and I--”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ call him Don!” Sugar exclaims. “ _ I  _ called him Don long before you were born!”

Sebastian and Blaine raise eyebrows at that, and Sugar seems to realize what she said, stomping her foot angrily. 

“You were  _ kissing  _ him!” she shouts out, pointing her finger at Kurt then at Blaine.

Blaine wanted to keep things civil, but like everybody, he has his line in the sand that he won’t cross.

And Sugar, and her possessiveness over him, just crossed it.

Going to stand next to Kurt, he wraps an arm around his waist. “I was kissing him,” he says hotly, the control on his temper wavering. “I happen to be in love with him.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Sugar says, a mean laugh on her lips. “Everybody knows you’re in love with  _ me _ .”

Blaine hates to be  _ that  _ guy, but Sugar leaves him no choice. “Try to be sensible, Sugar, and listen to what I’m saying--I’m going to marry him, some day.”

Kurt’s eyes are wide as saucers at the words, but he nods emphatically when Blaine turns to him.

Sugar seems even more angry now, though. “Come on, Blaine, be serious, he’s not the marrying kind,” she says, reaching for Blaine who shrugs her off in outrage. “He’s just a flirt, trying to get ahead by using you!”

Kurt gasps at that, and takes a step towards Sugar, but Blaine puts one hand on his chest and shakes his head.

“Anyway, I’ll put a stop to it all,” Sugar says with a smirk. “I’m going right up to Hollie!”

Sebastian steps forward, blocking her way to the door. “I’m afraid it’s a little bit late for that,” he tells her gently--well, he does sound gentle, at the very least. “The picture is all finished, and Hollie will never agree to any delay, just because you want someone else to dub you.” He gets closer to Sugar and bends himself over so he can look directly in Sugar’s eyes. “And if it weren’t for him,  _ you  _ would be finished too!”

Sugar closes her hands into fists. “As far as I’m concerned,  _ he _ ’s the only one finished!” she replies angrily. “Who will ever hear of him?”

“Everybody!” Blaine exclaims, joining Sebastian’s side. “Why do you think Hunter is in a sweat? Because Kurt nearly stole his picture from him, and is getting second lead in the next!”

“He is?!” Sugar says, in shock.

“Oh yes,” Blaine says, taking a not so small amount of pleasure at seeing Sugar backed in a corner of her own making. “He’s only doing you a favor here--and he’ll get full credit for doing it!”

This time, Sugar is not just shocked--she’s appalled. “You mean--it’s gonna say on the screen that I don’t do the singin’ and the talkin’ myself?!”

Blaine and Sebastian nod in sync. “Exactly.”

Sebastian adds with a mock confused frown. “What did you expect?”

“They can’t do that!” Sugar whines. 

“It’s already done,” Blaine replies, his voice softer now. “There is a whole publicity about it.”

Sugar glares at him, huffing and puffing as she straightens up to her full height. “Publicity?” she repeats, her voice grating. “I’ll show you publicity! They can’t make a fool of Sugar Motta!” She steps forward, hip checking Sebastian out of the way. “They can’t make a laughing stock out of Sugar Motta! What do they think, I’m stupid or somethin’?”

The three men watch her walk and rant away, and Blaine pulls a disheartened Kurt closer.

What can Sugar do about it anyway?


	7. Chapter 7

The newspapers are scattered on Hollie’s desk, and she can’t quite believe what she’s reading.

“Holiday says Sugar Motta greatest dancing, singing star”, by Tina Cohen-Chang.

“Dueling Cavalier now the Dancing Cavalier--see Anderson and Motta sing and dance!”, by Jacob Ben Israel.

Thad looks like he can’t quite believe it himself. “Monumental Pictures wildly enthusiastic over Sugar’s singing pipes and dancing stems--”, he reads, arching one eyebrow at his boss.

“Don’t look at me,” Hollie says angrily, hands on her hips, “I  _ never  _ said that.”

Thad tilts his head to the side and keeps on reading the article. “Premiere tomorrow to reveal Sugar Motta’s big musical talent”, he reads before crumpling the paper. “Boss, you can’t pull a switch like this on the publicity department!”

Trent, Thad’s associate in the studio’s communication, steps forwards, holding heaps of papers and dropping them on Hollie’s desk. “We were all prepared for the campaign on Kurt Hummel and then you do this!” he exclaims, a little bit desperate. “At least give us a warning--”

And that’s all Hollie can take without exploding. “Now wait just a minute fellas,” she shouts back, “I don’t know  _ anything  _ about this! I had nothing to do with it!”

Thad racks his fingers through his hair and sighs. “So what are we gonna do now?”

“Nothing!”

They turn to the doorway, staring at Sugar who just arrived, a giant smile on her face as she flounces in.

“You will do nothin’,” she repeats, dropping her furcoat on Hollie’s desk. “You wouldn’t want to call the papers and say that Sugar Motta is a big, fat liar!”

“Sugar,” Hollie starts, voice low and on the verge of being dangerous, “did you send that stuff out?”

Sugar smiles sweetly at her and nods. “I gave an exclusive interview to every paper in town,” she crows happily.

Hollie looks murderous for a moment, and her anger is still clearly visible when she slowly exhales. “You will not get away with this, Sugar,” she says calmly--though her voice shakes with repressed insults. “Thad, call back the paper.”

Sugar comes to stand between her and the two publicity men. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Hollie.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Sugar!”

Sugar’s smile turns vicious. “What do you think I am--dumb or somethin’?” she says, tapping Hollie on the shoulder until she sits down on her desk. “I had my lawyer review my contract.”

Hollie frowns at that. “Contract?”

“Yeah,” Sugar replies with a smirk. “And  _ I  _ control my publicity--not you!”

“Oh really?”

“Really. The studio is responsible for every single word printed about me,” Sugar continues, fanning herself with a few leaves of Variety. “And if I don’t like what you say ‘bout me, I can  _ syoo _ !”

“You can what?”

“Sue, you,” Sugar repeats, slowlier like Hollie is beyond stupid. “If you tell the papers about Kurt Hummel, it would be--” she pauses, looks up and enunciates like it’s just another dialogue, “de-te-remental and deleterious to my career!”

Sugar turns to Thad and Trent and takes an innocent pose. “And I could sue you for the whole studio,” she concludes far too sweetly for Hollie’s taste, handing her a folded contract.

Hollie starts scanning the addendums and the paragraphs of legal terms. “That’s a load of nonsense, that’s what it is …,” she mutters, but Sugar turns the pages and taps it with a long, red finger.

“It says so--right here!” she says triumphantly. “Contract dated June 8, 1925, paragraph 21, subdivision letter A--the party of the first part--that’s me,” she adds, pointing at herself.

Hollie reads it and looks back at Sugar, letting her weight settle of the desktop. “You win, Sugar,” she says, defeated.

Thad clears his throat, and the two women turn to look at him. “We better take Kurt Hummel’s name off the credits …,” he says, clearly torn about they legally have to do.

“Fine, fine,” Hollie explodes, standing up to go behind her desk and put some space between her and Sugar. “Let’s get this over with.”

When Thad and Trent rush out of her office, she expects Sugar to follow them.

But the damn diva stays where she is, playing with her fur.

“What now?”

“Oh, just one more thing,” Sugar says, sitting on the corner of Hollie’s desk.

“Yes?” Hollie says, allowing herself a moment of sarcasm. “Want me to change the name of the studio to Motta Pictures Inc.?”

Sugar reaches down and pats Hollie’s cheek. “Oh, Hollie, you’re cute,” she coos, before Hollie can bat her hand away. “I was just thinking--you’re giving this boy a part in Hunter’s picture, and an even bigger one in the next, right?”

“So what?”

“Sooo, if he’s done  _ such  _ a great job doubling for my voice,” Sugar says softly, trailing her fingers on the desktop, “don’t you think he’d better go on doing just that?” She pauses, catching Hollie’s chin and forcing her to look at her. “And nothing else?”

Hollie stands up, practically sending Sugar toppling over in her haste to get away from her. “Sugar, you’re out of your mind!”

Sugar drops the smile and all appearances. “After all,  _ I _ ’m still more important to the studio than he is!” she snarls, and Hollie is speechless.

Just for a moment though.

“Sugar, I wouldn’t do that to him in a million years,” she says, angry and on the verge of kicking the starlet out of her office. “You’d be taking that boy’s career away from him! People don’t do things like that!”

Hollie hoped to appeal to Sugar’s sensitivity, but instead, she gets an even more incensed Sugar right in her face, as Sugar straightens up to her full height.

“ _ People _ ?” she repeats in a hiss. “ _ I  _ ain’t people! I’m a--,” she pauses, picking up a newspaper, “--I’m a ‘ _ shimmering and glowing star in the cinema firmament _ ’!”

She slams the paper against Hollie’s chest. “It says so--right here!”

\---

“Premiere tonight : All singing, all dancing, all  _ talking _ \--Blaine Anderson and Sugar Motta in the ‘Dancing Cavalier’!”

-

Kurt glances at Blaine’s head, just a couple of seats from him, and he reaches for Sebastian’s hand next to his. “It looks wonderful, doesn’t it?”

On screen, Blaine and Sugar, with Kurt’s voice, make for a beautiful couple, all grace and charms--and perfect musical harmony.

“It does,” Sebastian whispers back. “Too bad about the credits and the publicity,” he adds with a frown, and Kurt squeezes his hand.

“You’re sweet,” he says, “but Blaine said not to worry about that--after tonight, everything will be cleared up.”

On screen, Sugar/Kurt starts singing “Would You”, and the audience’s comments reach their ears.

“What a voice!”

“Anderson really is a sensation.”

“But Motta is stealing the show--that  _ voice _ !”

Kurt takes the compliment, but there is a small part of him that starts worrying as Blaine, Sugar and Hollie discretely stand up and go towards the wings.

He tries talking himself out of it, but that nagging voice is persistent, telling him that him being the reason Sugar Motta manages the switch to talkies is not a reason to rejoice.

“ _ Would you,  _

_ Would _

_ You … _ ”

The movie ends on the final number and the final kiss, and it’s a standing ovation that celebrates Blaine and Sugar.

Sebastian stands up too and leans in to whisper in Kurt’s ear. “You know it’s really you and him they’re cheering for, right?”

Kurt smiles at him as he joins the rest of the audience to applaud the movie.

“They’re terrific!” someone says on their right, while most of the audience cheers Blaine and Sugar’s names.

The pair comes out from backstage, bowing and saluting the crowd, like they usually do.

Kurt cheers even louder, and Blaine winks in his direction before returning backstage.

“Let’s go with them,” Sebastian says, and they use the cover of the cheers to step away from their seats and into the wings.

\--

Blaine thinks that Sugar looks a little bit too happy about their success--all he feels is relief that their careers and the studio are still standing.

But Sugar …

Sugar is exuberantly happy.

“Listen to them!” she says when they go backstage once more, “We’re a sensation! This movie is the biggest thing since Ben-Hur!”

Artie is ecstatic. “Sugar, you were terrific,” he says, beaming up at them. “Anderson and Motta are gonna be greater than ever!”

That puzzles Blaine and his smile freezes instantly. How could they be greater than ever if Sugar is on her own, voice-wise?

“It  _ was  _ good, wasn’t it,” he says nonetheless, and Artie shakes his hand enthusiastically.

Hollie’s smile is tight around the edges when she approaches, April standing by her side. “Wonderful, Blaine,” she tells him, clapping his back. “The public loves you two--”

Sugar cuts her off, positively gleeful. “Yer darn tootin’ they do!” she exclaims.

Artie turns his head towards the room, the walls still shaking with the clamours.

“They’re screaming for you,” he tells them, practically pushing them back out. “Go take another bow!”

Blaine goes, putting his hand on the small of Sugar’s back like he always does before beaming at the crowd.

He knew that Sebastian’s idea was fantastic, genius really.

He knew that Kurt would pull it off.

He wasn’t sure  _ he  _ would pull it off.

But they did.

Oh, the pictures they’ll make.

\---

The moment Kurt and Sebastian walk backstage, Hollie rushes to them, shaking their hands enthusiastically.

“Congratulations, kids,” she tells them. “It’s a real smash!” She focuses on Kurt, and there is something odd in her smile. “We owe a lot to you.”

Kurt smiles at her and squeezes her hand. “Thank you,” he replies warmly, before turning to the curtains as Blaine and Sugar come back into the wings.

Blaine rushes to Kurt’s side, pulling him into an embrace that Kurt can only happily return, present company be damned. “Kurt!” he exclaims before kissing him, taking Kurt’s breath away. “We did it!”

Kurt kisses him back, cupping the back of Blaine’s head to pull him closer. “We did, Blaine,” he replies, nuzzling Blaine’s cheek. “A true miracle!”

Blaine pulls away, keeping one hand on Kurt’s waist, and offers one hand to Sebastian. “Seb, it’s all you!”

Sebastian looks coy and joins them. “Not  _ all  _ me,” he replies with a crooked smile, before turning to Sugar. “Congratulations, Sugar, you sang almost as well at Kurt,” he says pointedly, and Kurt bites his lower lip.

Sugar looks thoughtful, but Kurt already knows her, and her minauderies have no effect on him. 

Then her smile turns into a smirk, and Kurt feels a shiver of dread down his back.

“Why, thank you Sebastian,” she says sweetly. “I intend to do so for a long time!”

Blaine frowns at her, and Kurt can feel his fingers freezing on his own back. “What do you mean?”

Sugar’s smirk is triumphant when she faces them, hands on her hips, and Kurt wonders if it would be such a bad taste to throw up on her glittery shoes. “I mean, he’s gonna keep right on doubling for me!” she exclaims viciously.

Blaine lets go of Kurt to march towards her. “Now, Sugar,” he starts, hands closed into fists, “I knew something was brewing under those permed curls of yours. Now get this, once and for all,” he continues, voice shaking with anger, “Kurt’s got a career of his own--we only did this to save the one picture!”

Sugar looks up at him and bats her eyelashes. “Hm,” she lets out thoughtfully. “That’s what  _ you  _ think.”

Before Blaine or Kurt or anybody can react, she struts back to the stage and the cheering audience, and Thad nudges Blaine forward to follow her.

Blaine turns to glare at Hollie, exchanging a hopeless glance with Kurt and Sebastian before following his co-star back in the spotlight.

Kurt turns to Sebastian, who is already confronting Hollie. “Sugar’s getting a little carried away, isn’t she, boss …?” he asks, a suspicious tilt to his voice.

Hollie brushes her dress, and if Kurt is a good judge of character, he’d wager that she’s embarrassed.

And he has a feeling he’s not going to enjoy it.

“Y-yes, of course she is, I--,” Hollie manages, just as Blaine and Sugar come back into the wing.

“Now you listen to me you vapid viper,” Blaine seethes, “don’t you get any idea about using Kurt in the future. Tell her Hollie!”

The producer fumbles for words, and Sugar takes her chances. “Never mind, Hollie!” she exclaims. “Listen to that applause out there! It’s for me--for Sugar Motta!”

She beams at the sliver of light from behind the curtains, where the audience is still cheering and calling their names. “Wait till the money starts rollin’ in,” she continues, a smirk stretching her red lips. “You’re not gonna give up all that up just for a little nobody who doesn’t wanna be my voice!”

Artie scratches his head, and looks helplessly at his boss. “She’s right, Hollie--it’s a gold mine, you got no choice!”

And Kurt has it up to here with these people trying to take over his future, his life.

Nobody pushes the Hummels around, darn it.

“Part of that choice is mine, Miss Motta,” he says hotly, “and I just won’t do it.”

Sugar looks startled that Kurt even dared to talk to her, but she quickly recovers. “You got a five-year contract with the studio, sweetheart,” she says, affecting a patronizing tone. “You’ll do what Hollie tells you to do!”

“Hollie!” Blaine shouts incredulously. “Why don’t you tell her off?!”

Hollie messes her beautiful hairdo with her fingers. “I don’t know!” she shouts back. “It’s so big, and--and …” she pauses and glares at her two stars. “You go back out there for a curtain call!”

Sugar flounces back to the stage, and Blaine follows, a figurative black cloud over his head.

Kurt can’t believe that this is happening--Hollie promised, didn’t she, and Blaine thought …

“Holiday,” Sebastian says with as much contempt as he can muster--and that’s saying something, “you’ll have to find yourself a new screenwriter.”

Hollie looks on the verge of tears now. “Now come on Sebastian--”

Sugar and Blaine return, and Blaine makes a beeline to stand between Kurt and Sebastian. 

Sugar is ecstatic, and she has no qualms about rubbing it in their faces. “Listen to them--I’m an avalanche!”

She gets closer to Kurt, and both Blaine and Sebastian stand in her way--not that it stops her. “You, my dear, are  _ stuck _ ,” she tells him, sticking out her tongue before cackling happily.

Blaine puts one arm around Kurt’s shoulders and turns an icy glare towards Hollie. “Make up your mind,  _ boss _ ,” he says far too calmly, “but if this happens, say goodbye to your golden boy.”

“Blaine!”

“I mean it, Hollie,” Blaine continues, only the tight hold of his fingers around the knot of Kurt’s shoulders betraying his anger, “if you agree to this--well, good luck making Anderson and Motta pictures without Anderson.”

Before Hollie can answer, Sugar snorts loudly. “So, who needs you anyway! I was a big star before you came along, risking your neck for five bucks a day, and I’ll be an even bigger star without you!”

“Now wait a minute, Sugar,” Hollie finally interjects, “Blaine is a smash too! I am--I’m still head of this studio!”

Sugar whips her head towards her and looks murderous. “Oh really?” she hisses. “You wanna play Big Producer--always running the show, always running  _ me _ ? Well from now on,  _ I’m  _ running  _ me _ !” she exclaims, nodding decisively. “As far as I’m concerned,  _ I’m _ the head of the studio!”

“Motta Pictures Inc., huh?” Hollie retorts, sarcasm heavy in her voice in spite of her shock. “Sugar, I think you’ve gone a little too far--”

“Ha!” Sugar laughs in her face.

From the theater comes a clamor.

“Speech, speech!”

Artie’s eyes widen. “They want you to give a speech, kids!”

Sugar puts her hand in front of Blaine, blocking his way. “A speech? I’ll give ‘em a speech!” She gives them all a superior look. “Tonight for the first time, I’ll do the speech  _ myself _ !”

Artie tries to stop her with Thad’s help.

“No Sugar!”

“Don’t do this!”

Blaine and Sebastian exchange a quick look before stepping forward.

“Now, now Artie,” Sebastian starts, patting the man on the shoulder.”

“It  _ is  _ Sugar’s big night, after all,” Blaine continues, patting Thad and giving him a pointed look.

“Darn right,” Sugar says triumphantly before marching on the stage.

Thad puts his face in his palms and Artie simply turns his back on the whole scene.

Blaine follows her with a smile on his face for the first time since the end of the picture, and Hollie catches his sleeve. “Blaine,” she begs, “don’t let her talk.”

Blaine shrugs her off and Kurt frowns at them.

“What are you doing?” he whispers in Sebastian’s ear. “She’s going to ruin everything!”

“Have some faith,” Sebastian says, taking Kurt’s hand between both of his, his eyes stuck on the pair on stage.

\---

Blaine stands a couple of steps behind Sugar and he focuses on not showing anything about his feelings on his face.

But Sugar is making it very difficult--her, and the reactions from the audience.

“--at your reception for the  _ Dahncing Cavalier _ , our first talking picture together,” Sugar says, her nasal tone erasing all the benefits from Ms. Pilsbury’s lessons. “If we bring a little joy in your  _ ‘umdrum  _ lives, it makes us feel like our hard work hasn’t been in vain for nothin’. Bless y’all.”

Blaine distinctly sees Tina Cohen-Chang looking beyond puzzled, and her companion whispering that Sugar didn’t “sound like that in the movie, what happened.”

He wishes he could hear more, but suddenly, someone shouts from the balcony.

“Hey, cut the talk, Sugar! Sing!”

The rest of the room chants in unison. 

“Sing, sing, sing!”

Blaine can see the moment Sugar tenses all over, before she bows to the audience and holds her hand up to make them wait, walking like a crab, back into the wing.

He beams at the crowd before following her.

“What am I gonna do?” Sugar screeches. “Tell ‘em I got a cold! A frog! Somethin’!”

Artie tries to comfort her, but Blaine pulls Hollie and Sebastian into a huddle.

“What if we got her to sing?” Blaine whispers, and both Hollie and Sebastian look horrified. “Not actually  _ sing _ , but pretend to sing, with Kurt at the microphone?”

“Are you insane?” Sebastian whispers angrily. “What about Kurt? Why do you agree to this sham?”

Blaine shakes his head. “Remember our act in North Dakota, on our way to California?” he says pointedly.

Sebastian frowns, trying to remember it.

Blaine can tell the exact moment the memory kicks in. “With the bag of sand and the …?”

“Exactly.”

They whisper it to Hollie who finally relaxes and nods, while they can hear Sugar lamenting over what she can do, and the audience clamoring for a song.

Hollie has a glint in her eyes when she straightens up. “Sugar, we’ve got it,” she says in her best boss’s voice. “There’s a microphone, we’ll put it behind the curtain, and Kurt will sing for you.”

“Like--like in the picture?” Sugar asks, and Hollie, Blaine and Sebastian nod.

“Exactly like in the picture.”

Kurt looks shocked--and angry, and disappointed. “Blaine!”

Blaine takes his most solemn pose. “Kurt, you’ve got to do it. This thing is too big …”

Sebastian puts his hands on Kurt’s shoulders. “Yes, you must understand, Kurt--Sugar is bigger than this, bigger than all of us. Nothing can stand in her way!”

“I will never do it!’ Kurt replies, pushing them both away from him.

“He must do it!” Sugar cries out.

“Of course he must do it,” Hollie says patronizingly, “he’s got a five-year contract with me. Come on, Hummel, off you go!”

“My god,” Kurt whispers, turning to Blaine for help.

If Blaine wants his “trick” to work, he needs to play it til the end. “You heard her, Kurt--you must do it.”

Something akin to pain passes in Kurt’s eyes--those beautiful eyes that have kept Blaine awake so many nights--before it morphs into pure anger. “Fine, I’ll do it,” he replies angrily. “But I never want to see you again--on or off the screen!”

He stomps towards the microphone, and Blaine gathers all of his strength to keep himself from following him.

“At least  _ someone _ got some sense into him,” Sugar says happily, lightly patting Blaine’s arm. “Thanks, Blaine!”

As she walks to her microphone on the stage to the hurrahs of the crowd, Blaine can feel Hollie and Sebastian standing by his sides.

“You’re sure it’s gonna work?” Sebastian asks, biting on his lower lip.

“I can only hope,” he replies, eyes on Sugar and Kurt on both sides of the curtain.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this AU - thank you for reading it ^^

Sugar goes back to the microphone, ruffling the feathers around her neck like a primping bird as the applause dies down, the audience waiting for her to give them a performance.

“What are you going to sing, Miss Motta?” the orchestra leader asks sweetly--he was there for all the recordings, hers and Kurt’s, and he cannot fathom why  _ she  _ is the one standing behind the microphone.

Sugar smiles at him and takes a step back towards the curtain. 

Kurt leans forwards, between the folds of the velvety wall. “Singin’ in the rain,” he whispers, shaking his head with a sigh.

Sugar turns back to the leader. “Singin’ in the rain,” she repeats brightly.

“What key?”

The man’s smile is perfectly neutral.

Once again, and it causes quite a stir through the crowd, Sugar turns to the curtain.

“A flat.”

“A flat!”

Blaine goes to stand next to the curtain, one hand clutching it as the orchestra starts playing the song that means--or should he say ‘meant’--so much to them.

From his point of view, the illusion is perfect: Sugar’s mouths the song perfectly to Kurt’s voice.

Holly comes to stand closer to him, along with Sebastian. “Works perfectly, doesn’t it,” she says with a crooked smile.

Blaine returns it. “Oh yeah,” he replies, moving his hand from the curtain to the rope. “You know, now that I think about it,” he continues, “those ropes remind me of that scene I did in “Prince of Pirates” …”

“Oh really?” Holly replies, curling her fingers around the rope too. “What scene, Blaine?”

“The one with the British flagship pursuing us …”

“Oh yeah,” Sebastian comments dreamily, joining them in handling the ropes. “That was a swell scene.”

“How did it go,” Blaine playfully wonders. “Oh right!”

They all exchange a look before pulling the rope hard and fast. “Hoist away!”

The curtain slowly opens, and as the spotlight hits him, Kurt’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t stop singing, performing through and through.

The audience gasps as the stratageme is revealed, and Kurt turns his head towards the wings, towards Blaine, bewildered and confused.

Blaine urges him to keep on singing with a grin, and beside him, he can see Sebastian making “go on” gestures.

Some members of the audience are overcoming their shock and react in the only jmanner they deem normal.

They start laughing.

Sugar frowns slightly at that, unaware of what is happening behind her, but like Kurt, she keeps on mouthing along to the song.

Sebastian claps Blaine’s shoulder before walking decisively towards Kurt.

Kurt shakes his head at him, but when Sebastian kisses his temple and forcefully takes him by the shoulders to remove him from the working microphone, he doesn’t have much of an option.

Using his best baritone, Sebastian picks up the lyrics where Kurt left them.

For a beat or two, it looks like Sugar revealed her more masculine side; and then it dawns on her that something is happening, and she turns to face Sebastian’s smiling face.

For a split second, she looks murderous, and Blaine fears for his friend’s life--right until she runs off the stage, yelling after Hollie.

Kurt follows her example and goes running down the aisle, not fast enough that Blaine doesn’t see the tears pooling in his eyes though.

Listening only to his instincts, Blaine rushes on stage and calls after him. 

“Kurt!”

But Kurt keeps on running, and Blaine gets desperate to get him to  _ listen _ .

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he calls, “stop that man! That’s Kurt Hummel!”

One lady stands in front of Kurt and smiles gently at him, pushing at his shoulder to make him turn back towards Blaine.

“This man,” Blaine continues, voice shaking with emotions, “is the real star of the picture you enjoyed tonight. His voice is the one you heard through it all and,” he pauses and tries to catch Kurt’s eyes, “you will see a whole lot of the both of us in future pictures--if he lets me.”

Kurt looks down, wringing his hands in front of him.

Blaine sighs and slowly starts singing.

“ _You, make me, feel like I’m living a, teenage dream …”_

As he walks down the stairs and up the aisle, the orchestra picks up the slowed tempo of the song and accompanies him softly.

Kurt looks up, eyes wide, but he doesn’t try to run away from him.

“ _Before you met me, I was alright but things, were kinda heavy, You brought me to life_ ,” Blaine keeps on singing, watching the look of wonder spreading on Kurt’s face.

The members of the audience surrounding them are smiling in anticipation as Blaine reaches Kurt, holding out his hand as the song dies on his lips.

The orchestra keeps on playing the melody, and Blaine feels like Time is suspended in that moment.

Waiting for Kurt to … do something,  _ anything _ .

And then Kurt takes his hand, and all of Blaine’s world concentrates in that touch, in their fingertips brushing, in the warmth of Kurt’s skin and smile.

Kurt gives him a slight nod, and Blaine picks up the song where he left it--but this time around, Kurt joins him, to the crowd’s delight.

“... _I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece, I’m complete_ …”

Blaine walks backwards towards the stage as they sing, pulling Kurt with him back to the spotlight where he belongs.

As they finish the song, Blaine spots Sebastian’s head in the orchestra’s pit, leading the musicians and he nods towards him.

Sebastian winks at them before turning to the musicians to bring the melody to its end.

The crowd goes wild, clapping and cheering for them, and Blaine tightens his hold on Kurt’s hands.

“May I,” he asks softly.

Kurt frowns at him, confused for a moment.

“May I be your partner,” Blaine clarifies, “on and off the screen?”

Kurt smiles. “Yes,” he whispers before pulling Blaine against him. “Yes you may.”

_**The End** _


End file.
